


Against The Odds

by an_alternate_world



Series: Buddie Big Bang 2020 [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Big Bang Challenge, Buddie Big Bang 2020, Canonical Character Death, Embedded Images, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Hostage Situations, M/M, Marks AU, Red String of Fate, S.W.A.T. AU, Soulmarks, emergency calls, including fatalities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 89,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24978145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_alternate_world/pseuds/an_alternate_world
Summary: LAPD SWAT Team Leader Eddie Diaz is ordered to take up a hobby which will reduce some of his stress and anger because his Commander, Athena Grant, knows he hasn't processed the loss of his ex-wife and it’s clearly affecting his job. At Carla's suggestion, he begrudgingly takes up drawing classes. The model intrigues him, his torso covered in Marks and clearly with a lot of stories to tell, but Eddie’s still grappling with the fallout from his one, scarred, Mark. He’s not ready for the implications of another Mark, even if the mysterious model might be responsible for making him smile and laugh for the first time in almost a year.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Buddie Big Bang 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806502
Comments: 339
Kudos: 425
Collections: Buddie Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting this with a series of shoutouts to people that have helped get this off the ground.
> 
> Firstly, to Zel. Thank you for all the brainstorming we did way back at the start for how the universe would work, what all the colours meant, and then of course reworking the whole idea when the first attempt at writing this wasn't something I liked. Bouncing ideas off you is probably the only way this thing actually got finished.
> 
> Secondly, to my beta and partner-in-angst-riddled-crime, Nicole (chasingoblivion on Tumblr) [yes, everyone is going to know you're the partner-in-crime over here too]. Thank you as always for finding all my little errors, pushing me to write better scenes and ideas, strengthening the plot holes, and throwing ideas around to make everything work better when I forget that the world that seems so clear in my head isn't always to those reading it.
> 
> Thirdly, to my artist for the Bang, Jay (will-byers-protection-agency on Tumblr). Thank you for claiming this baby so quickly and being inspired to create such pretty arts to support the fic that I will absolutely scatter everywhere because it deserves to be seen in all the places. I am still in awe that you did the double of writing and arting for the Bang, you crazy bub. Thank you for being such an amazing champion and cheerleader <3  
> To see the complete series of art WHICH IS SO AMAZING I'M SCREECHING, you can find it [_here_](https://will-byers-protection-agency.tumblr.com/post/622254884370169857/against-the-odds-by-an-alternate-world-on-ao3).

**Word Count:** 1,402  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

"Runner out the side!"

Eddie practically growled at Tandy's declaration because as carefully as they'd planned this, there were only so many entrances and exits they could feasibly cover. Three doors, countless windows, a squad of five, and a household with at least four targets inside? Shock and awe to blast your way in only did so much.

"Gimme two," he announced and Walker and Polson lifted their weapons higher on the three subdued perps already cable-tied on the living room floor and the two cable-tied girlfriends who kept pleading their innocence. He really wasn't interested in hearing it. "You good?"

Walker gave a thumbs up and Eddie darted back through the front door with Nicholls at his heels. Tandy's gasping breaths were loud in his earpiece as he ran after their missing fourth suspect, but he still called out directions as Nicholls went for the driver's seat and Eddie leapt into the passenger side. As Nicholls gunned the engine and tore away from the curb, Eddie flicked the lights and sirens.

"Turning left, north-east by two blocks," Tandy huffed and Eddie pointed out a cross-street for Nicholls to take. "Right down an alley running east-west. Lost visual but he's- _Ow_! What the-"

Eddie gritted his teeth as he heard Tandy's curse, the sound of a scuffle and several groans that were unmistakably their junior officer. Nicholls planted his foot firmer on the gas and the truck darted forward, weaving around a car that had stopped in the middle of an intersection and he would have waved his thanks that they'd given way to their noise if he wasn't singularly focused on providing directions.

"In pursuit again but he's got distance now. Sorry, guys."

When Eddie estimated they had to be in the vicinity of the alley's outlet, Nicholls screeched to a halt and Eddie leapt from the truck. Tandy jogged into view from the alley a moment later, a cut beneath his left eye oozing blood and harsh breaths spilling over his lips.

"What the _hell_ , Tandy?" he snapped, pointing along the street for a suspect he couldn't see. "Left? Right? Across the road into the next alley?"

Tandy scanned the street helplessly, his eyes wide and his breathing ragged, and Eddie could've hit him on the other side of his face for his failure to secure the target or keep track of where he'd gone.

"We didn't pass him so I'll keep going. You two cross," Nicholls called from the window and Eddie had to ball his hands into fists so he didn't yank Tandy across the road by his ear.

He led the kid across the road while Nicholls peeled away, scanning the alley which was filled with cardboard boxes, crates and containers to hide behind. Or hide _in_ , if the perp had had enough thought. With a flick of his wrist at Tandy, they lifted their M4s and Eddie led the way. He moved almost silently, hoped Tandy _at least_ had enough sense to try to lessen some of his loud breathing, and fought the urge to kick over boxes and tip crates.

It was as they approached the second container that there was a blur of movement and a shout behind him to warn him of what he'd already seen. He reacted without needing to think, ducking at the fist flying towards his head and countering the action by lifting his hand to grab and _twist_.

There was a howl of pain as he wrenched the shoulder joint a little too far in his rotation of the man, flipping him onto the ground where there was a sickening crunch as he landed on his face. Another pained scream echoed around the alley and Eddie could only roll his eyes and slump until both his knees were across the back of flailing thighs to pin him in place.

"My _nose_! You fucking _asshole_!"

His fury still burned through his blood as he reached for the cuffs tucked into his waistband, snapping them around the wrist he had a grip on, then reached for the floundering second to pin both hands behind his back. Several steps away, Eddie could hear Tandy radioing in the update to Nicholls, calling for backup to take him and the others into HQ from their different locations for further questioning.

"You're already going away for a _very_ long time, Garcia," Eddie snapped, digging one of his knees into the legs and shoving a little roughly at the back of his neck. "No one's going to care about your nose once I add assaulting an officer and resisting arrest to your charges and make sure you never see daylight."

Garcia, one of the four they'd been aiming to take down in the hit, had warrants out for five violent home invasions across the city with his crew. Three of the invasions had put people in the hospital with various gunshot wounds. After two died in the most recent invasion, SWAT had been called in to get them off the streets faster. If Garcia even got to _taste_ freedom again, it would be too soon.

Nevertheless, Garcia tried to squirm as Eddie dragged him back to his feet and propelled him out of the alleyway to shove him into a squad car that rolled up minutes later. Once they questioned him back at HQ, the DA could figure out all the finalised charges of who was to be charged with murder and who were the accessories. Eddie was just satisfied they'd got them all, even as he cast a glare towards Tandy for almost letting Garcia slip away.

Athena, on the other hand, was less than satisfied as she stared across her desk at him after they'd trooped back to HQ. Her lips were pursed, her hands were on her hips, and her narrowed eyes were like glinting steel.

"Breaking his nose is _excessive_ ," she said, her tone like ice.

So what if he'd taken the guy down a little hard? Tandy had needed butterfly bandages across his cheek and had a pair of bruises blossoming on his chest from taking hits to the ribs. Eddie was still oscillating between too much rage at his junior officer for letting Garcia slip through his fingers, _twice_ , and Garcia for escaping in the first place. Under the circumstances, trying to dredge up some sort of contrition for his Commander was beyond him.

"I'm not going to say it again," she said, then proceeded to say it again anyway: "Do something about that anger problem or you're suspended until I think you're ready to come back, Diaz."

* * *

It was Carla that ultimately suggested it.

" _Art_ class?" he said, eyes bugging out of his head. Wait until the team heard about _that_.

She shrugged, gesturing to the pictures that adorned his fridge. "Christopher always finds it soothing. Why couldn't you?"

He wasn't going to argue with her. Drawing had been Chris' way of processing the trauma of last year and the decreasing use of blue marker filling white pages had been a slow, steady relief to Eddie's frayed nerves.

A few days later, she left a pamphlet on his pillow for the local community centre. It listed a variety of classes that were due to start the following week and she'd very clearly circled a drawing class in red.

He sighed, glancing across the room at the photo of Shannon that stared at him from the top of the dresser. "Stop judging me," he muttered, discarding the pamphlet onto his bedside table and switching off the light so that he could get a few precious hours of restless sleep before he had to be at his next shift.

The following morning, amid tickling his kid who thought it was a good idea to wake him up far earlier than he actually needed to get ready for school, Chris saw the pamphlet.

"Are you gonna take classes?" Chris said, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from all the laughing as he examined the folded piece of paper. "'Cos it sounds fun. We could draw together."

And even though Eddie didn't want to do something like _draw_ , he knew trapping his pain wasn't just affecting his work when Chris made statements like _that_. He folded Chris into his arms, snuggling his giggling body among a pile of sheets and blankets, and wished it were that simple to let go of his anger.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the fic is from Christopher's [_"Against The Odds"_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nErMLUCwJEw).
> 
> This fic will update on Monday evenings, US-time.
> 
> Come scream at me on my [Tumblr](https://an-alternate-world.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter 2

**Word Count:** 3,681  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

He stared at the door like it might bite him.

Maybe it would.

Who was he to know?

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, feeling completely irrational when he thought about the fact that he was talking to himself. If anyone walked by, they'd probably wonder if he was psychotic. Cart him away and place him on a psych hold. That was the last thing he needed. Among many things, if he were honest.

With a deep sigh, he pushed open the door and followed the series of arrows to the room number that had been printed on the email confirmation. The room wasn't particularly large but there were an array of tables in a semi-circle, facing a central podium with a stool. There were a few people already there – an older, curly-haired brunette woman wearing a light-blue shirt; a younger blonde girl that was probably in her early twenties; an Asian woman with lime green streaks in her hair wearing a purple sweater; a male whose red hair was peppered with grey still in a shirt with a tie. Each was sitting at a table, a sketchbook and pencil in front of them. The blonde girl and man were both fiddling on their phones; the brunette woman was doodling in the back of the sketchbook.

He tried not to feel too intimidated as he shuffled into the room and sat at the nearest table, keeping his eyes averted in case anyone was looking at him and fixed his gaze on the sketchbook. He felt idiotic, completely out of place, an absolute lunatic. He could accept Athena wasn't satisfied with his work performance lately – he knew he hadn't been as focused the last six months as she would have liked, and he knew he worked tough cases with serious consequences to him or the team if he screwed up – but being here felt stupid. He'd done the mandated therapy hours she'd demanded after Shannon died, he'd even gone to a few more just to tick the boxes and get back to work, but this was…

He sighed again, twisting the pencil between his fingers while his foot tapped against the ground. Seconds ticked into minutes, and a younger guy entered and sat across the room while an elderly woman hobbled inside with a walking stick. The podium remained empty and every minute that waned, Eddie wondered if he shouldn't just walk out and leave and find something else that Carla could suggest. Maybe dance classes. Or yoga. Or knitting.

A middle-aged woman in a yellow-spotted dress entered, arm looped through the elbow of a man who was definitely at least Eddie's height, if not taller. Where she was dark and short and looked around at the rag-tag group assembled in the room, his skin was fair, his hair somewhere between blond and brown, and his blue eyes swept over the room without really focusing on anyone in particular.

"Hi everyone," the woman said. Her quiet voice broke the lull everyone had fallen into while waiting. "Welcome. We're going to start very simple today and then gradually work our way up. This will work better if you take your sketchbooks home and continue to practise what we do here between classes?"

A couple of heads nodded but Eddie couldn't imagine drawing at home. If he wasn't exhausted by the time he got Chris into bed, then he'd much rather prefer to put up his feet and watch an episode of some nonsense on the TV to try to shut out the noise of the day before he dragged himself to bed and slept for a handful of hours. Having the sketchbook at home was likely to just encourage Chris to snoop, and he doubted he wanted his kid looking through his-

The man sat on the stool and the woman's fingers brushed against his broad shoulders, which drew Eddie's attention to the long-sleeved black shirt he was wearing. He hadn't been paying as much attention before but now he could see the swell of biceps beneath the fabric, the way it stretched taut across his shoulders and the way it accentuated the narrowing of his waist to be tucked into dark-wash jeans.

Eddie swallowed and returned his focus to the woman.

"Drawing is all about shapes," she began, looking at each of them. "I'm not going to insult your intelligence by revisiting childhood picture books and pointing out circles and triangles, beyond reminding you that there are many shapes involved in the construction of a person. If we're sketching, we should start with light pencil marks that outline the general shape. Then we can return to it and fill in more details."

She turned to the piece of A3 paper taped behind her, plucked a pencil from her pocket, and made some rough but clear markings on the paper.

"The basic shape of a face is going to vary from person to person. Some are more elongated ovals, others have wider jaws to look faintly triangular, others are square and blocky." As she talked, she sketched the basic shapes that she was talking about. "If you divide a face into thirds horizontally and in half vertically, then you can start to add in other shapes. Ovals for eyes, triangles for noses, stretched hearts for mouths."

She continued drawing and Eddie started to understand the point she was making, which he supposed was the reason behind the explanation and the accompanying illustration. It was clear she knew what she was doing and while Eddie knew, and appreciated, that there was a model for a reference in front of them, she evidently didn't need to glance at the man sitting on the stool who continued to look impassively at the back wall. His gaze was distant, like he wasn't really paying attention to the fact he was even there.

"When you understand that the human body is based on shapes, then you can really draw anything at all," she concluded, with a brief flurry against the page.

Her speech was probably not even five minutes in length but she had still managed a basic outline that strongly resembled the man in front of her. Eddie figured it would take him at least ten years to get even a fraction of the shapes she had produced, and he thought it might take another ten for those shapes to actually _look_ like someone sitting in front of him.

"If we take into account that the face is about shapes, then I want you to spend five minutes looking at this face in front of you. What are the shapes you can see? Each of you will have a slightly different perspective based on where you are located in the room. Some will see our model's jaw differently, or his eyes, or his nose." Her index finger skated around those locations. The man didn't so much as twitch. Eddie wasn't sure if he was meditating or just that capable of zoning out. "Wherever you are, identify those shapes _before_ you start drawing. Divide your page into thirds horizontally and in half vertically so that you can accurately locate where those shapes are on the page. Questions?"

Eddie hadn't expected to be set the task of drawing quite so quickly except he wasn't sure what he _had_ expected either. She was correct that everyone in the room ought to know what shapes were. He didn't need extensive theory, although he certainly appreciated her quick tips to break down the complicated process of trying to draw something realistically.

It felt even stranger to stare at a man for almost five minutes, to really catalogue the features of his face in an analytical way rather than the way Eddie looked at suspects for twitches of guilty lips or flickers of uncertain eyes. The man's expression never changed, his gaze never wandered, and for a while Eddie thought he may have been a wax figure or a mannikin except for the steady blink and rise and fall of his chest.

After the allotted 'stare' time, Eddie then stared at his page and tried to visualise what it was that he wanted. He had the shapes but he lacked any sort of confidence in committing them to paper. He started with a small sketch, barely bigger than the palm of his hand. The proportions were wrong and the locations of features were off and he scribbled it out with such ferocity that the point of the pencil snapped.

The woman wandered over to him, holding out a sharpener and watching him with a gentle smile. "The harder you think about it, the unhappier you're going to be with your results."

He took the sharpener, managed an uncomfortable smile, and flicked his gaze between the sketchbook and the man he was meant to be sketching. "If it looks like something Picasso did, we can call it a win, right?"

She laughed and it helped relax his shoulders, just a little. "We're aiming for realism at the moment but maybe later in the course, we'll add Cubism just for you." She winked, took the sharpener back when his pencil had a sharp point to it again, and wandered away to talk to others in the room.

He never found it easy to stop thinking – he supposed that was the whole point of coming, wasn't it? – but he did his best to focus on the tricks of dividing the face and then lightly outlining shapes for features. Maybe his second attempt was a little less juvenile, a fraction better than something Chris would produce with his crayons and markers.

By the time the class finished, he understood why she'd suggested they practise between sessions. He wasn't going to manage anything resembling a human being in his entire life if he expected a 90-minute class once a week to magically solve his art woes.

* * *

He returned to the sketchbook a couple of times during the week, when he wasn't absolutely wiped out from negotiations or plans or calls. He made doodles, mostly. A more intensive focus on the shape of an eye, or a nose. He used photos of Chris or Shannon as a guide, trying to identify the shapes as he held his phone near his sketchbook to compare what he'd done to what he attempted to capture.

It was far from perfect, it still looked childish, but he was practising. It held his attention a little better than whatever might've been on the television and by the time he crawled into bed each night, there was a little less tension in his shoulders.

* * *

A month passed and they still hadn't graduated beyond the guy's face, although Eddie could see why the woman lingered on it. When he sat at different seats, caught different angles, he started to notice the bump in his upper nose or the line of his jaw or the swell of his lower lip. He hadn't even realised there was a mark around the guy's left eye until last week because he'd always been somewhere on the right side of the room, but he quickly became obsessed with trying to capture the shape and shading of the blot of colour above his eye and eyebrow that contrasted with the pale skin.

So they'd spent time looking at the shape of eyes, using the model and then looking at someone beside them. Eddie was confident staring suspects into submission but examining someone so closely had made him more uncomfortable than he'd expected. They'd also examined noses from the front and profiles, and they'd studied the shape of different mouths. Eddie hadn't realised there was so much variety in a human face but he now had a deeper appreciation for the work the sketch artists did when attempting to interpret vague vic descriptions of a suspect. Thin lips and thick lips required different degrees of shading, while upper lips could have a bow and lower lips could droop towards a chin.

And _chins_ … The variety of shapes a chin could have?!

He wasn't convinced there was much growth in his skills, even though he thought his understanding of using basic shapes to create an outline of what he wanted was improving. Perhaps his work looked _slightly_ less like Picasso had vomited pencil facial features all over a piece of paper, but only just.

He glanced between his sketch and the man's face again, gaze narrowing as he did another sweep over the features of the model on the podium. His job forced him to pay close attention to people, to scrutinise and assess and gauge.

He flicked back a few pages, to the week they'd focused on eyes. His drawings might have been rudimentary, at best, but he still thought there was something different about the man's eyes this week. For all the impassive staring he usually did, Eddie was sure there was a difference in the sparkle.

* * *

Two weeks later, the focus shifted to hands and Eddie had spent ten minutes staring at his pathetic attempts and wondered if it wasn't too late to request they stick with faces.

Every time he attempted to draw a hand, it looked like an odd-shaped square with five sausages protruding from it. Even when he spent the week between classes looking at his own hand, he still couldn't get the lines of knuckles right, or the shading of callouses and pores, or capture the rough lines of his bitten nails.

He got so distracted staring at his hand in the truck on the way back from a call, trying to identify the shapes he was missing from his drawings, that Walker had bumped his shoulder to snap him out of it.

"You're staring at your hand like you're high, man," Walker said, grinning at him. "You're not high, are you?"

"I will drop your ass off the edge of the building next time," he retorted, folding his hand back to his lap and flicking eyes over the rest of his team. Except when he did that now, all he started doing was identifying shapes. It was almost enough to make him groan and bury his head in his hands.

"I'll remember that next time you call for back-up, Sarge," Walker said with a wink and Eddie shook his head and focused on a spot above Tandy's shoulder.

"Don't make me write you up for insubordination or ignoring a commanding officer's order," he grumbled.

Walker, Tandy and Nicholls all laughed.

* * *

"It's not enough to just consider the hand in isolation," Natalie explained, holding her hand in front of her. "The hand is, obviously, connected to the wrist, then the length of the forearm to the elbow, and then up to the shoulder. Each of these areas have distinct shapes, and again they are specific to each person. My biceps are nothing like these," she said as she gestured towards the man with a small laugh. Her words almost, _almost,_ seemed to make the model's lips twitch.

It seemed strange to Eddie that it had been almost two months and he still hadn't seen the man smile, or laugh. He hadn't heard the man speak. He didn't even know the guy's name. In some ways, he supposed, it became easier to break his features into shapes when he wasn't personalised but by the same token it felt dehumanising to simply use him for a bunch of shapes. As someone who pored over the minutiae of details every shift, Eddie wished he had a name, or perhaps the timbre of his voice, or maybe what he looked like when he smiled and it reached his eyes.

Maybe it'd help his sketches. Maybe it'd make the man seem like a person rather than a bunch of interconnected blobs.

"Today we're going to be continuing our exploration of hands but also looking at the arm as a whole. We need to remember that nothing in the body can be drawn in complete isolation. If I open and close my hands, different muscles move and become apparent beneath the skin. You need to be mindful of that when considering the shading of your shapes."

She tapped the model's shoulders and he rolled his eyes, shrugging off the hoodie he'd worn to class that evening and laying the fabric across his lap.

Eddie froze, eyes widening. He was certain he wasn't the only one who was staring. He was fairly certain that Jane, the curly-haired brunette, was the one who'd made some sort of noise but he wasn't sure if she was reacting to the same thing.

Eddie saw muscles every day. If you wanted to remain in SWAT, then you had to stay in shape. If the team weren't on a call, they were hitting the weights or the bag or the treadmill to stay fit, and strong, and prepared. He could appreciate the curve of the man's arms in the same abstract way that he noted those of the guys around him, or the way he checked himself in the mirror to make sure he was still at peak fitness. Someone who clearly worked out, who took care of himself and ensured he looked good, wasn't new to Eddie.

No, what was new to Eddie were the series of pale pink Marks that littered his arms from wrist to shoulder. There were tattoos as well – dark rings that braceleted his right forearm, the hint of swirly words that Eddie couldn't read on the outside of his left – but it was the array of small Marks that really drew Eddie's attention. He'd never seen someone with so many before.

"If we return to looking at the shapes, then you can see how outlining the forearm to resemble an oblong is probably your best bet. The upper arm, however, clearly needs a rounder circle at the top with a smaller oval for the lower arm to connect with the elbow," Natalie said with quick gestures of her pencil across the paper behind her.

Eddie heard Natalie's words but it was like listening through a pane of glass. They weren't really sinking in because he wasn't really interested in the shapes. He kept getting distracted tracing his eyes over the Marks, thinking about how each small pink stripe had a story. Nestled high near the man's shoulder, Eddie could see a half-red, half-black Mark. The smear was too obvious, contrasted too much with his pale skin, and Eddie's eyes drifted between the model and Natalie. He wasn't sure how they knew each other – nothing personal had _ever_ been mentioned about the two of them, which was sometimes infuriating – but perhaps they were together. Perhaps she had a matching stripe on her back or leg.

His musings about Marks meant he didn't start drawing for quite some time. He didn't even realise he'd zoned out so thoroughly that he was rubbing at the inside of his left wrist until Natalie stopped in front of him and tapped her fingers against his blank page.

"Are you stuck?"

He blinked at her, right hand falling away from his wrist, cheeks feeling warm, as he looked at his empty page in embarrassment. "No. Just- Just distracted today."

She nodded, flashing him a warm and encouraging smile which he'd seen her give to everyone at least once most evenings. "Take your time and draw what you feel comfortable with, okay?"

He nodded even though he knew it couldn't be that simple.

* * *

Natalie was pushing them to look at the connection between the arm and the shoulder, the fluid sweep of her pencil across the page betraying the difficulty Eddie was having in capturing any sort of shape to the man's shoulders. He kept getting distracted by the breadth of his upper torso, the obvious strength in his arms, the daubs of pale pink stripes that spread up his arm and across his shoulders too. The half-half Mark was clearer when he lowered his shirt and cinched it under his armpit, exposing the thin curl of a tattoo above it and the lines of another tattoo peeking from his right pec.

Eddie found himself doodling the tattoos more than the shape of the shoulders, shading Marks around them. It was still drawing, even if it wasn't exactly the target of the lesson. He was still using the model for inspiration.

And if he kept looking back at the sketches later, refining the rough shapes of the tattoos into something that seemed closer and closer to what he saw in front of him… It was still looking at shapes, right?

* * *

Another couple of weeks passed and Eddie had the joy, or the privilege, or the delight, of being able to appreciate the model without a shirt. The pale pink Marks spread across each collarbone and halfway down his pecs, a constant and glimmering distraction. When he turned, there was a scattering of them across his shoulders too.

Eddie was no longer sure how many of the others were paying attention to the lessons and how many were simply ogling the man and pretending to put pencil to paper, but Eddie suspected most of the women had gotten distracted. Including the older woman with the walking stick, Geraldine. Last week she'd made a comment about missing her youth, when her husband's skin didn't sag everywhere and she wished he'd keep his clothes on because he no longer looked as attractive as the young man in front of her. The ensuing laughter had kept intermittently breaking out for the rest of their lesson. Even the model had turned sparkling eyes of amusement towards her for a brief glance.

Eddie could hardly blame them for their distraction though. He knew he was no better.

The increased frequency of sketching outside of class, the proliferation of doodled shapes in the spaces around his other drawings, indicated as much. All his attempts at taking reference glimpses for shapes was rapidly turning into storing mental images that kept him awake at night and uncomfortably hard in the morning.

* * *

**_~TBC~_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared to 'Tread Lightly' or 'If The World Was Ending', this fic became my happy place. Odd, I know.
> 
> But yay! Some world-building! This sort of AU has lived in my head for so long, from Tumblr posts of years and years ago. I'm so glad a version of it is finally finished and going out into the world. What do you think?? Let me know or come drop by my [Tumblr](https://an-alternate-world.tumblr.com/). I was dabbling with prompts the other day, if you want me to write you something ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Word Count:** 2,787  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

Maybe it was because he had to pay attention to people, or the model, or he'd made many sketches over the past almost-three months, but as soon as the man walked in that week, Eddie knew something was different. Eddie had spent so long trying to capture the slope of his shoulders that it was clear there was a more distinct slump this week. His lips also seemed thinner, pressed together with tension at the corners, and his eyes were even more distant than usual as Natalie walked around him and explained methods to ensure body proportions were accurate when drawing all the features they had been working on individually. Eddie still thought his skills were atrocious but he knew he wasn't as lost in his own pain now, and that Athena wasn't glowering at him so frequently. He supposed, if nothing else, that being here once a week had been helping him unwind after his shifts on the other days too.

Still…

The man shrugged out of his shirt like he had been doing for almost a month and Natalie started outlining her explanation on the paper behind her like always, but Eddie was still fixated on analysing why there was such an aura of sadness or resignation or absolute _defeat_ in the posture and facial expression. Surely he couldn't be the only one who noticed it? They'd all been staring at the same guy for three months. They all had to be alert to it, right?

It wasn't until he actually tried to focus on his page, tried to divide the paper into sections as Natalie had and made some rough strokes with his pencil, that he began to really process that some of his reference sketches weren't working this time. The change in the shoulder positioning was throwing off how he'd developed the man's arms, and there was also a tweak in the tilt of his head and neck that threw off the angle of his mouth and nose.

When he flicked through his previous pages, identifying the features he'd focused on previously, and then glanced up at the model, he felt his eyebrow rise and his lips part slightly when he realised what was different.

Or, perhaps, what had caused the change.

The half-half Mark was now solid black.

It was a stark stripe, smaller than his tattoos and yet just as obvious. Eddie felt his heart twist at the realisation because he could remember exactly how he'd felt when his Mark for Shannon had blackened a year after she'd left, when he'd realised her feelings no longer matched his and their bond was over. And he could remember the pain when it had scarred, the way he'd clutched at his chest and stared at his wrist. Even now, he struggled to look at the scarred Mark. Even now, he kept it hidden as much as possible beneath the band of his watch.

But for the model in front of him, the positioning of the Mark near his shoulder wasn't so easy to conceal when he didn't have a shirt. The curl of his shoulders that hadn't been there a week ago meant the blackening had to be fresh.

Eddie knew all the pale pink stripes meant he must have had a lot of flings, but Eddie hadn't glimpsed any other coloured Marks except for the one on his shoulder. Whoever had been important, whoever had shared the man's feelings, had left the relationship and it was clear the man was suffering. The knowledge of how that pain felt made it harder for Eddie to concentrate when his thoughts kept drifting to his feelings and memories about Shannon. The same feelings and memories about Shannon that had led him here, to this drawing class, attempting to move past them so that it stopped interfering with his work.

He was holding the pencil so tightly in his fist that he snapped it in half. The _crack_ echoed through the silence of the room and for a moment, he thought he'd broken a tooth with how tightly gritted his teeth were.

When he realised there were multiple sets of eyes on him, he fumbled through an apology and exited the room to find somewhere that had enough air to breathe.

He stalked the deserted corridors of the community centre, leaning against a wall at the far end of a darkened hallway and tilting his head against the solid surface. He breathed in, forced himself to hold it, and breathed out. He knew he was too-rapidly approaching the anniversary of Shannon's death, too easily lost in shifts and calls and taking care of Chris and sketching in the evenings to let himself think about her for too long, but he wasn't ignorant to the passing days and weeks and months.

His heart still thumped uncomfortably hard in his chest after he regained some sort of control over his breathing and jaw, hands curled by his sides because he still wanted to hit something. Athena had been firm in essentially banning him from anything resembling violence outside of the job, concerned that giving into the aggression outside of the job would make him more furious when he was on shifts. She kept saying he needed to learn how to let the emotions go with peace and it sounded like some sort of hippie nonsense. He wasn't going to argue with his commanding officer, though. Athena was terrifying if you crossed her.

When he eventually gathered himself enough to return to the room, a few people glanced his way before resuming their drawings. He found a fresh pencil placed on his page and his gaze flickered to Natalie, who gave him another of those calm, reassuring smiles. He nodded his thanks and sat again, trying to focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't easy, and he wasn't pleased with what he'd produced by the end of the class, but some of the fury that always simmered at the bottom of a well had settled by the time everyone began packing up. He didn't feel like he was going to explode on the drive home or cry into a pillow once he'd curled into bed. He supposed that meant the outlet of drawing had worked.

"You okay tonight?"

He looked at Natalie as he folded the sketchbook into his bag, moving slower than usual. Ordinarily he felt like he was rushing to get home, but tonight he didn't want to race. If he let himself start feeling the stress, he wasn't sure what else it might unravel.

"I'm okay," he said, offering a smile that he didn't really feel but knew she was being polite and he respected her for checking in. He knew this class wasn't the place to start divulging his feelings about his dead wife, though. He didn't want to talk about how Athena had demanded he find a better way to manage his emotions. Natalie was gentle, and kind, and he appreciated her care – but he wasn't going to start picking everything apart now. Not again. Not when he needed to get home to Abuela and Chris.

She nodded, but she didn't look like she believed him. "Drive safe," she said and he echoed her wish as she left the room.

Maybe it was deliberate, or maybe it was an accident, but when he finished zipping up his bag, he realised it was just him and the model left. The guy was finishing the buttons on his shirt with his right hand, reaching for his leather jacket with his left.

"Hey." He swallowed around the knot in his throat because this was… He didn't do this. It was like dissolving a barrier that had been around the guy for months, stealing into a site he wasn't meant to enter. Which was part of his job, but not exactly something he did in his personal life.

The guy straightened, eyebrow raised as his blue eyes actually met Eddie's for the first time in months. He was always so guarded during classes that sometimes Eddie forgot he was still a complete stranger.

"Uh…" _Smooth, Eddie, smooth_. He twisted the strap of his bag in his fingers, bit the inside of his cheek. "Are you okay?"

The eyebrow lowered, a pink tongue darting out to tug his bottom lip between a pair of perfect white teeth, the faintest twitch at the edge of his lips. "I think the lie we're telling ourselves tonight is 'I'm okay'?"

Eddie's breath caught a little at the rich amusement coating the man's words, the lilt to his voice that was warm even as he called Eddie out on the lie he'd told Natalie. It was harder to focus on the blue eyes now that they seemed to be seeing beneath some of the layers of his armour, trying to expose the parts Eddie was always trying to protect and never wanted to deal with when he fought so desperately to remain in control for Chris.

"I'm taking that as a 'no', just so you know," Eddie said, looping the strap over his shoulder and trying to remember he looked at suspects that were covered in tattoos and had eyes that promised evil retribution if they ever got out. How or why he felt like such a floundering idiot in front of a guy that seemed like pure innocence was beyond him.

Those pink lips he'd spent too many hours sketching curved in front of him, left eyebrow quirking upwards again as arms were pushed inside the sleeves of his jacket. The leather stretched across his shoulders and accentuated the curve of biceps that Eddie had memorised a month ago but found impossible to shade on paper. "Does that mean I should take your response to Nat's question as a 'no' as well and start worrying about you getting home safe?"

His stomach absolutely did not _flutter_ at the thought that someone he didn't even know might actually care about him getting home safely.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

The man laughed, a quiet rumbling that spread through his chest, and his eyes crinkled at the edges. Eddie wanted to dig out his sketchbook and start trying to capture _that_ image on a blank page. "You just answered a question with a question."

Eddie tried not to pout. It really would be unbecoming of a man in his thirties who had been to war and saw horrors more often than not.

"So you're not okay," he said slowly, leaning against his table and forcing himself to remember that he had a point to all this. "Do you want to talk about it? Get a drink?"

The man was smiling at him, something clearing in his eyes for a brief moment. "Thanks for the offer, but I have to get to work."

" _Work_?" He glanced at his watch as the minutes ticked past eight o'clock. "You go to work after this? _Now_?"

"Not all of us can have day jobs." The man shrugged, hands disappearing inside the pockets of his jacket.

Eddie frowned. "Being a bit presumptive there, aren't you?"

"You work nights?"

His fingers fiddled with the strap of his bag again, knowing he was entering into the sort of territory he didn't want to bring into the classes. Work needed to stay separate for his own sanity. He'd already thought too much about Shannon tonight and-

He scrunched his eyes shut, exhaled, and found the best version of an internal centre that he could before he opened his eyes again. He tried to ignore the curiosity that had entered the sparkling ocean depths in front of him.

"When it's required," he said finally, and the man looked no less curious but he granted him a nod and checked his watch.

"Well, gotta go." He flashed a smile that wasn't as genuine as the laugh before, and Eddie could tell that now because his eyes didn't wrinkle at the edges. "Same time, same place next week?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, fighting against the smile that tugged at the edge of his mouth. "I hope your job's not stand-up comedy because that was _awful_."

The surprised huff of laughter returned and Eddie decided he needed to secure the sound and hold it within his heart.

They walked out of the centre together, Eddie sizing up that the man had a few inches on him and was definitely broader across the shoulders. He probably had a similar build to Nicholls, and Eddie wasn't ignorant to the swell of muscles beneath the guy's skin from all the time spent in class. He was strong and could more than hold his own against Eddie in a sparring match.

"So, uh… Drive safe," he said, eyes flicking between the ground and the guy's eyes. He got slightly distracted by the way the outside lights caused new shadows to fall across his face, highlighting the shape of his cheekbone. Groping around for his keys seemed like a good distraction so that he avoided staring.

"You too," the man said quietly as Eddie kept moving forward, turning towards the right where he'd parked his truck down the street. "Hey?"

Eddie looked over his shoulder, bottom lip catching between his teeth.

"Thanks for…staying back to check," the man said, eyes dropping and throat swallowing around some obvious hesitation. "I don't know your name but-"

"Eddie."

The man's eyes lifted towards him again, something resembling a dimple in his cheek as he apparently bit down on the urge to smile. "Well then, _Eddie_ , just…thought I'd say thank you."

Some of the nerves he hadn't been able to get rid of dissipated, realising that the veil which separated him from the man he was meant to draw might have been tugged loose but it wasn't so bad to humanise him, to see him smile and laugh and appreciate something as simple as checking if he was okay.

"You're welcome…?" His inflection rose and his head tilted in an obvious display of lacking a name too.

"Buck," the man – Buck – said with a faint smile as he ducked his head in evident embarrassment. Eddie wondered if it was for the same reason – three months of sharing a room with someone and failing to know their name had to be a first for him.

"Then you're welcome, Buck," he said with a nod, twirling the keyring around his index finger. "Drive safe and I hope your shift goes well."

"Thanks."

He managed to make it to his truck without turning around repeatedly, wondering if he was just imagining what felt like the weight of Buck's eyes on him the whole time. Eddie's job demanded he look out for and look after people. He wouldn't have been able to go home after seeing that black Mark, after seeing the shadowed eyes, and not check if Buck was okay.

The fact he still had lingering impressions of Shannon leaving him was something he'd just have to grin and bear.

* * *

"Dad?"

He looked towards Chris sitting at the table, feet kicking beneath his chair while he worked through his Math problems. "Yeah, kiddo?"

"Are you happy?"

He blinked, eyes sweeping towards the pasta dish he was almost finished making, and then turned a frown back towards his son. "Happy?"

"Yeah." Chris put his pencil down, eyes fixing on Eddie across the room. "You don't seem so sad anymore."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

He turned down the heat on the stove, just to avoid anything burning, and moved around the kitchen to his kid. He folded his arms around Chris' shoulders from behind his chair, pressing a series of noisy kisses to his curls that left Chris laughing and pushing him away.

"You know I love you, right?" he said, chin resting near Chris' temple as small hands circled his wrists. "More than anything?"

"Yeah, I know." Chris tilted his head, eyes raking over Eddie like he knew it was all a deflection to avoid answering if he was _happy_ or _sad_ like it was that easy to quantify. "I love you too."

He kissed Chris' forehead, squeezed his shoulders lightly, and then returned to the food while Chris finished off the last couple of Math problems.

The question haunted him for the rest of the night, though. The sweetness in Chris' tone had burrowed beneath his skin and stayed there.

It made for a restless night as he stared at the ceiling, pushed at his pillow, kicked at the blankets. Even in the dark, he thought he could feel the photo of Shannon gazing at him, judging him, laughing at his inability to maintain control.

He wondered when he'd stop being so angry at a dead person.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They spoke! They spoke! They know names! And while this chapter is only short, hopefully it gives a few more hints at the Marks for all those asking about it last chapter. Patience, young Padawans. We will get there...
> 
> I have opened requests over on my Tumblr for a [fluffy prompt meme thing](https://an-alternate-world.tumblr.com/post/622783386752303104/101-fluffy-prompts) if you have something you would like to request to counter all of the angst I've been putting up lately.


	4. Chapter 4

**Word Count:** 5,243  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

The call came over the radios as they meandered streets in the city. A mass casualty event in the south, a possible terrorist incident, a missing driver. Polson had flicked on the lights and sirens, executed a sharp U-turn at the next intersection, and begun speeding through the traffic.

There were ambulances and firefighters and police crawling the scene by the time they arrived. Crumpled bodies covered with plastic and sheets, smears of blood along the road, a dark grey 4WD smouldering against a shattered shopfront. Eddie cast his eyes across the carnage, pointing Polson and Tandy towards one of the patrol units to make their presence known.

"What have we got?" he said as he approached the car, where two plain-clothed detectives were taking photographs and jotting notes.

"Suspect fled the scene heading west. Witnesses reported he was male, six feet, dark hair, light shirt and jeans," the woman reported, flipping through her notebook. "Accounts have varied about facial features and skin colour, but been consistent about his direction and clothing."

"Do we know a motivation?" Nicholls asked and both detectives shook their heads.

"Some have said it looked deliberate, others said the vehicle appeared out of nowhere. We've got six DOA on the side of the road and another eight transported to hospital. Three were critical," the male said and Eddie exchanged glances with Nicholls and Walker. Whoever this guy was, they needed to find him. Fast.

He regrouped with Tandy and Polson and made contact with HQ to provide an update on their location, status, and a rough plan. Once Athena's voice crackled back with an approval, he flagged down some of the members of various patrol units to implement a grid search of surrounding streets.

"We don't know who this guy is, we don't know where he might be, and we don't know if he's armed and possibly dangerous, so keep your eyes open," he ordered. When he received a series of nods, he directed the various patrol units and then led his squad west where they fanned across the street to knock on doors and peer over fences.

"Sarge!"

Nicholls jogged behind him as they crossed to the other side of the road, where a stain of blood on an ajar door had them all lifting guns into position. He waved two fingers around the back, pointed at his eyes. Tandy and Walker nodded and departed, while Nicholls and Polson slid behind him. There was a crackle on his radio that sounded like static but was the signal that the other two were in position. Swallowing any trepidation, he eased the door open, stretching his ear for sound.

"LAPD! Is there anyone in here?" he shouted, hovering by the doorframe.

He was answered by silence so he gestured at Polson. She pressed against her radio twice to indicate entry and then Eddie moved forward, crouched with his gun drawn as he swept into the house.

"Clear," he whispered as he looked over the living room, his words mimicked by Nicholls as he left the front bedroom.

Polson tapped his shoulder and pointed at a streak of blood on the wall by the staircase. He nodded, gave a thumbs up, and Tandy and Walker joined them at the base of the stairs. The two men gave small shakes of their head so Eddie gestured at the stairs.

Walker went first, followed by Eddie. The stairs creaked and Eddie winced with every footstep that drew attention to their rise to the second floor. As quiet and well-trained as they were, there was no accounting for noisy stairs.

Walker moved to the room on the left with Polson while Nicholls and Tandy peeled off to the right. Eddie kicked through the door in front of him, fingers twitching on the trigger as he lay eyes on their target.

"LAPD! Show me your hands!"

The man, his skin as tan as Eddie's, didn't have a light shirt anymore. There was a circle of red that had congealed, and instead it was his face which was light, faded of colour. Walker touched a hand to Eddie's shoulder and Eddie pushed a foot to the man's shoulder.

He tipped towards the side of the cabinet and Eddie dropped his hand from the trigger to catch him, fingers at his neck as Walker lifted his shirt. There were three clear bullet holes, and Eddie shook his head at his squad.

"Call the coroner," he said, holstering the gun and surveying the man in front of him. "Contact HQ. We have a bigger crime than we thought."

* * *

Eddie's eyes itched as he stared at the paper in front of him. It had been a long day chasing leads and talking to suspects, eventually tracking down the name of the vic. The incident had been scaled back from a terrorist incident to a tragic accident in light of his fatal wounds. Camera footage clearly showed he wasn't in control of his limbs after he'd escaped the vehicle and started stumbling down the road, and tracking backwards had led them to where Peters had crawled into the car. They'd crashed the house just before midnight, dragging their protesting murder suspect through the house in his underwear.

All that carnage after a drug deal went bad. Eight were dead, with another two still critical and five others hospitalised.

Sitting in the drawing class, it was hard for Eddie to think about anything except the broken bodies and the trails of blood he'd tracked around the city the day before. His poor night of sleep made him yawn intermittently, and he felt guilty that he couldn't even pay much attention to Buck. It seemed as though the most they were going to see of Buck's skin was where the waistline of his jeans began. Geraldine had quipped a, "Well, that's a damn shame!" which had left most in the class in stitches. Even Buck had managed a small, embarrassed smile.

Eddie's gaze drifted over the blank page and though he hadn't snapped the pencil, the churning nausea left him feeling unsettled. He hadn't been able to eat properly all day and when Abuela had run her hands over his face when she'd arrived to look after Christopher for the evening, he knew she'd seen the distance in his eyes. It was a look he knew had been there all day and it was a look he'd tried to shut out in the wake of all her fussing after Shannon died.

"I can stay later if you need more time," Abuela had murmured with a nod towards where Chris was munching on a carrot. He'd nodded his acceptance, promising to text if his plans changed. Buck might have to go to work after class again but Eddie could find a barstool somewhere and sit on it until some of the images in his head dulled around the edges.

An hour and a half later, he'd managed some vague shapes that had some crosshatched shading but nothing resembled any particular feature of Buck and none of it seemed to align with what Natalie had explained was the focus for the day. They were merely circles or cubes, nonsense scribbles that made coming to the class feel like a waste. He couldn't see any progress in his artistic abilities, couldn't find the place where he felt calm and untouchable, couldn't believe he was continuing to do this so many months later and for _what_? What was it getting him?

He glared at the page in front of him with dissatisfaction. While everyone else engaged in quiet conversation around him as they packed up, he tore the paper from the sketchbook and began tearing it into pieces of confetti. He was reaching for another page, intent on tearing that up too, when a hand he'd watched draw with ease for months touched the back of his.

"One day, you'll look back on those and see your growth," Natalie said, stilling his actions. He could understand how she'd interpreted the destruction of his work but it wasn't for that reason today. It hadn't been anything close to that.

He glowered at the shredded chunks of paper that littered his desk and nodded, brushing them into a small pile and closing his book. "Sorry," he muttered, shoving the book in his bag, sweeping the paper into his hands and throwing it in a bin on his way out of the building. He tried to ignore how his hands were trembling, how his chest felt tight with fury, how difficult it was to get a solid breath past the knot in his throat as he stalked to his car and folded into the driver's seat, fingers burying in his hair. The classes were meant to _help_ with calming him after difficult calls, not make it impossible to see straight because his vision blurred with barely-contained tears.

He flinched at the soft rap of knuckles on the glass beside him, peering past his hands to see a terribly familiar face watching him. He bit the inside of his cheek and forced his fingers to loosen so that he could open the door.

"You want to get that drink this week?" Buck asked lightly, eyes drifting over Eddie's face with obvious concern. He knew he had to look like a wreck. It was certainly how he felt.

Eddie hesitated and his gaze dropped to where he placed his shaking hands in his lap. "I- I'm not sure I'm particularly good company like this."

"That's okay." Buck shrugged, a twitch at the edge of his lips. "I'm working anyway so you can just sit in a corner and wallow, and I'll replenish the drink when you need it."

Eddie frowned as he lifted his eyes back to Buck. "You…work in a bar?"

"One of my jobs, yes. The night rate is good." Buck looked more comfortable and calm this week, a glimmer behind his eyes again. Eddie wished he knew how to find his way out of the dark that quickly. Maybe it would mean he didn't have to come to the class.

" _One_ of your jobs?"

Buck's eyebrows wiggled, lips curling into a smirk. "You only learned my name last week. I think you've got to wait a little longer before you get my entire life history."

And Eddie really wasn't in the smiling sort of mood but he couldn't deny how Buck's gentle teasing wormed its way into some of the cracks in his emotions and nestled among the shards. It helped get some air back into his strangled lungs.

"Yet you're inviting me to your workplace?"

Buck's eyes skipped over his expression again, perhaps recognising the storm that was raging inside him. "Honestly, you look like you need a hug but I figured I didn't know you well enough to offer _that_."

Eddie rolled his eyes even as he fought the huff of a laugh that stuck among the web of fractures in his chest. "So your next best offer was alcohol?"

Buck shrugged, smirk softening into a smile. "You just asked four questions in a row and I've answered each one. You should be proud of me."

He snorted before he could stop himself, rubbing a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the faint hint of a smile away. "What would you like me to say here? 'I'm _so_ proud of you, Buck. Well done on not asking questions this week!'?"

Buck straightened his shoulders, tilted his head a little, and Eddie would almost go so far as to say he was _preening_. "Yes, yes, that'll do nicely for my ego," he teased and Eddie fixed him with a stare, which didn't make Buck's grin falter in the slightest. "Anyway. Look. You don't have to come out. Like I said, I'll be working. I just- I noticed you were distracted tonight and figured I'd ask. See if you were okay."

And Eddie…knew he'd have to text Abuela, but that was sort of what she'd implied he needed before he left anyway, right? She knew him better than he knew himself, sometimes. Perhaps especially when he'd had tough calls or rough days. Yesterday's chaos had made the news, so there was no doubt she knew about it.

"I, uh… I need to text my Abuela," he said, pawing at the pocket of his jeans to free his phone. "She's looking after my son."

"Son?" The pitch of Buck's voice rose and Eddie wasn't surprised. It was the same sort of reaction he always got, alongside _You seem too young to have a kid_ or _Your Abuela? Where's your wife?_

He hummed, thumbs shifting over the letters to form words. "Christopher. He's nine."

"Oh."

That was the second-most common reaction he always got, regardless of what he'd initially been asked.

He sent the text, doing his best to find a teasing smile that felt genuine rather than forced when he looked back to the curious blue in front of him. "Sorry. Was that too much of my entire life history when you only found out my name last week?"

Buck chuckled, hands disappearing into his pockets as he rocked onto his heels. "As long as we stick to only one thing a week, I should know your social security number by the time I'm a hundred."

"Such high hopes," he joked.

"Anything to steal your pension and benefits, old man," Buck said with a wink, which temporarily stalled Eddie's brain from working out the response he was meant to formulate. "Alright. Can I have your phone? I'll put the address of the bar in so that you don't have to follow me."

Eddie handed over the device, watching with amusement as Buck's tongue poked past his lips and his thumbs danced across the keyboard. "I hope you're not trying to hack into my bank details right now."

Buck did a sharp salute with his right hand, something that made Eddie's eyebrows rise because most made a wobbly sort of gesture with a too-low elbow and index and middle finger held together. He clearly had military training of some kind.

"Scout's honour," Buck said, eyes glinting when they met Eddie's. "I'd have to know more information to get past all these security questions anyway."

He smiled even though he hadn't wanted to when he'd shown up to class. "Brat."

"Thank you," Buck said with a grin and something resembling a curtsey as he handed the phone back with the address entered into the system. "See you soon."

Buck was already striding away when the response from Abuela came through, a brief " _Diviértete, mantente a salvo, te quiero_ " that he thumbed out of the way to tap on the 'GO' for the address Buck had given him.

It was a half-hour drive across the city which meant it was at least forty-five minutes to get home. He needed to factor that into whatever time he decided to leave, because he had a shift tomorrow starting at midday which meant he was responsible for getting Chris to school. For now, though… For now, he could recline into his seat, focus on the instructions that reminded him of the simple orders he once followed in basic training, and thought about the opportunity to let go of some of the dark clouds that hovered around him if Buck's energy remained in his vicinity.

He didn't want to think about Buck too much, not in any sort of _meaningful_ way, but he knew there was a pull between them, an ease to their two interactions that left him genuinely smiling and laughing for the first time in months, maybe even a year. Maybe longer, considering how rocky things had been with Shannon before her death. It was refreshing, in a terrifying sort of way, because outside of work and family he didn't have a lot of other people in his life. He knew the team had his back, knew how terrible they felt when he'd lost Shannon and taken two weeks off to try to piece together the fractures of his life and reassure and comfort Chris, but they were his _team_ , like when he was deployed.

It was different with Buck. He couldn't explain it if anyone had asked, but it was different.

He parked his truck in the lot beside the bar, fingers tapping across the steering wheel as he stared at the neon sign above the entrance. _Everaces._ A heart and a spade twinkled either side of the word and Eddie knew it was too late to back out now. It wasn't like this was even a date, like it even _meant_ anything when Buck was working, but he still felt nervous. He hadn't really _gone out_ since sometime before Shannon re-entered the picture, and even then it had been fleeting and awkward when he had such little experience with social interactions in large groups of strangers. Give him a quiet dinner at home with Chris any day.

He climbed out of his truck at the same time as a motorcycle rumbled into the lot, and he didn't pay too much attention to it until he realised he recognised the leather jacket and the breadth of the shoulders. And then he wondered if the early June heat that still lingered into the night was responsible for the flush that erupted across his skin and spread across his face.

Buck peeled the helmet off his head, scratching fingers through tousled hair, and grinned at him. "Thought you might've chickened out."

Eddie eyed the bike with a mixture of interest and apprehension. "Didn't know you were into bikes."

Buck secured the helmet in a hatch and Eddie tried not to get too distracted by the stretch of denim across his thighs. "It's easier getting from the centre to here on the bike than in my Jeep. Manoeuvres faster through traffic or around accidents."

Eddie pretended like the dryness in his throat when Buck swung one leg over to stand was just because he was minutes away from getting a drink. "I hope you're not weaving between cars in a way that'll get you killed."

"My sister would kill me if that happened," Buck said and it took Eddie a moment to realise the joke in the sentence which explained why Buck's eyes were twinkling at him.

"Smart woman," he said with a nod and Buck agreed and then gestured towards the door.

"Shall we?"

And if Eddie didn't know that Buck was working, he'd _almost_ feel like this was a date.

He fell into step beside Buck, catching the way Buck nodded at the burly bouncer by the door as they ascended the handful of stairs and entered. It was more laidback inside than he'd expected, fairy lights strung across the ceiling to paint colours across the faces of patrons who were gathered into booths and comfy-looking sofas. It was busy without being crowded or crushingly noisy, and it looked like it could easily double as a sumptuous café during the day.

"C'mon." Buck's fingers were light against his arm as he guided Eddie towards the bar, pointing at a few free seats scattered around the timber top and then towards a few places around the room. Eddie hadn't even noticed all the empty spaces but Buck seemed to have taken the information in with barely a glance. "Beer? Wine? Spirit? Cocktail?"

"Beer's fine," he said, feeling a wave of nerves when Buck's fingers left his skin.

Buck ducked beneath a counter and reappeared on the other side, bumping hips with a guy who was probably a similar age as he strolled past to fetch the bottle from a fridge. The guy, shorter and more blond than Buck, nodded in response, cheeks dimpling around a smile, and Buck smiled back as he returned to Eddie with a couple of options. Eddie accepted the lite option from Buck's left hand, figuring that between the drive and his midday shift he probably shouldn't drink too much or too fast.

"Make yourself comfortable. I need to change," Buck said as he pushed the other beer across the counter towards the other man. The bottle was caught, twirled within his hands, and then disappeared into a fridge beneath the counter. It looked like such an effortless, well-rehearsed move, that it caught Eddie off-guard.

By the time he realised he should say something to Buck, he had already disappeared through a door to a back room. Eddie unscrewed the cap and scratched at the label while he looked around. There was the distant beat of music from a speaker somewhere, the faint strains of a guitar lilting through conversation, but it wasn't enough to discern what it was or where it was emanating from. It seemed to just give a background rhythm to the conversations without drowning anyone out. He appreciated it, if only because there was nothing worse than being somewhere and having to shout to be heard over a din of music he didn't like listening to anyway.

Buck reappeared a few minutes later in a short sleeve, black t-shirt. The coloured lights danced off the Marks on his skin, while the tattoos looked even darker to give him an edge of strength. The swell of his biceps only heightened the image and the absence of colour highlighted his shoulder to waist ratio. There was little left to the imagination of anyone that looked at him. And Eddie had looked at him. A lot.

But he'd never seen him like _this_.

For a while, Eddie simply observed Buck as he manoeuvred easily around the other man. He took orders from whoever approached the counter, pouring wine, fetching beers, tipping a myriad of liquids together before dancing to a beat Eddie couldn't hear while his arms shook the cocktail mixer. If Buck usually seemed distant in classes, something hooded in his eyes and guarded in the set of his jaw, he was a different person here. His shoulders were relaxed and his eyes sparkled and his smiles almost seemed genuine enough that Eddie might have thought they were real if he didn't know what Buck _truly_ looked like when he let the pretence fall away and he laughed.

Was it weird to watch someone so closely when he'd already watched him closely for months? Eddie wasn't sure.

Two-thirds of his beer were gone when Buck wandered by again, a fresh bottle spinning against his palm. "I think I promised replenishment?" Buck said and Eddie nodded, propping his chin in his hand.

"I'm assuming you've set up a tab and will be responsible in ensuring I don't end up tipping off the stool before I have to go home," he said, though Eddie also knew he had a grandmother at home to relieve from caring for his kid so that was unlikely.

Buck smiled, one of those warm smiles that Eddie knew was different to the others that had been thrown around so far. It went all the way to his eyes, made them sparkle differently under the coloured lights. "It's a second lite beer, man. Are you _that_ much of a light-weight?"

A smile was rapidly finding its way across Eddie's lips. "No. My Abuela probably put tequila in my milk bottles when my mother wasn't looking."

Buck laughed, shaking his head as he placed the bottle beside the other in front of Eddie. "So what you're saying is, watch out because you could drink me under the table."

Eddie shrugged, but his eyebrows twitched a little higher at the thought of a challenge. "Maybe if I didn't have a shift tomorrow and you weren't _on_ a shift, I'd consider it."

Buck's eyes seemed a shade darker when they looked at Eddie, laced with something that left heat coiling inside his stomach and erasing some of the lingering chill from yesterday's miseries. "You're working tomorrow?"

He lifted his bottle to his lips to finish it off, meeting Buck's stare. "Not all of us have to work the night shifts," he teased.

Buck's nose scrunched. "Fair point," he muttered.

"So, how'd you end up working at a place like this?" Eddie said with a gesture towards the room that hummed with noise and activity. Somehow, it still didn't seem overpowering. Maybe he was too focused on every glance Buck threw across the room, every twitch of his smile, every shift of muscle beneath his arms that made the pink Marks catch the light.

"Everaces?" Buck shrugged, grasped Eddie's empty bottle and twirled it in his hands. "Knew a girl who knew a guy who needed someone for nights in case things got rough."

Eddie blinked, eyes flicking across some of the people gathered at the edge of the bar either obtaining drinks or looking to buy one. Switching off what he did by day was nearly impossible but the drawing classes helped lull some of that away, and Buck's joking helped too. "Does it…get rough often?"

"We only ever _deal_ in rough," Buck replied with a grin, flashing a wink as Eddie wondered if there was any way to take that which _wasn't_ an innuendo. He felt as though he might've swallowed his tongue, or at the very least it had been tied into knots, and then Buck was gone again, drifting to someone else at the other end of the bar waving her hand because she had an order to lodge.

He was still trying to figure out how to get his brain to restart as he watched Buck move around, and realised belatedly how many _other_ people were watching Buck too. He wondered if Buck realised how much attention he drew towards him, like he was responsible for hypnotising the crowds with his mere presence. Was that what had lured Buck to the modelling at the art class? Buck's interactions with Natalie hadn't seemed to be laced with awkwardness or despair, so he could only assume she wasn't the reason behind the blackened Mark that was currently concealed beneath the shirt. It meant that to anyone else at the bar, the pale pink stripes were a clear indication that Buck had plenty of experience and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. Eddie idly wondered how many Marks might exist below the waistband of his pants, whether there were other tattoos scrawled across his skin, whether he had other birthmark-like blemishes.

And then he realised how all those thoughts were probably incredibly inappropriate for someone he was only meant to draw, for someone he wasn't meant to be so blatantly interested in when Shannon hadn't even been dead a year ago. He tried to stare at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, glowering at himself and mentally scolding the direction his thoughts had gone.

Yet while he stared at himself, he also started questioning just how Buck might see him after what had felt like some fairly flirtatious words. Was he a person, someone to _actually_ get to know? Or was he just another person to inscribe a pink Mark about so many others across his skin? It wasn't as though Eddie was looking for anything serious, or anything at all. He still felt hollowed out by Shannon's abrupt death, still looked at her picture every day on the dresser in an attempt to atone for all that he'd done wrong during their relationship. He couldn't imagine pursuing anyone after all those failures and missteps.

And besides, what would Buck see in _him_ anyway? He shook his head, knowing he was probably misreading everything, overthinking everything like he so often did, like he so often _had_ to do because he'd been trained to analyse every situation, every nuanced gesture, every flicker in facial expressions. He searched for truths and lies every shift and it wasn't as though he could simply turn that off. It boiled down to Buck either wanting him for another hook-up or maybe he was just being generous, reaching out a hand to offer help to Eddie after he'd reached out a week ago. He knew the easiest way to find out was with a simple question, but maybe the answer wasn't one he wanted to hear and he wasn't sure how he'd process that.

He glanced at his watch as he approached the end of his second beer, calculating that he needed to start the trek home to relieve Abuela and attempt to get some sleep. If he didn't rest, the shift tomorrow was going to be a long and hellish one, no matter how simple or harsh the calls might be.

He waved at Buck, who pointed towards the fridge with a questioning brow. Eddie shook his head and lifted his wrist with the watch. Buck gave him a " _One minute_ " gesture that Eddie nodded at before turning away again. Eddie followed Buck's gaze and saw the brunette girl across the counter, the way she was twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling – almost _leering_ – at Buck.

Well.

That explained the many Marks.

The way Buck leaned against the counter and smiled back at her made his heart sink. It was painfully obvious this hadn't been intended as a date, or that Buck had any real interest in him beyond reaching out. There was something about the curve of his shoulders that suggested Buck was _very_ interested in the girl in front of him and…maybe it should have been reassuring, maybe it should have comforted him that he now knew the reality of the situation.

Instead, the chilled stone had returned to his stomach and he just wanted to go home and see Christopher, just wanted to fold around a pillow until everything stopped aching so much and he could sleep.

He dug a $20 note from his wallet and folded it beneath his bottle. It was too much for two lite beers but he didn't want Buck to hassle him about leaving a tip at the next class. With one last glance at Buck as he laughed at something the girl said, Eddie slid off his stool and slipped between the sea of chairs and people, escaping into the bustling noise of LA at night alone.

* * *

Maybe he was a coward.

Maybe he was pathetic.

Maybe he was exhausted because he'd had to work that day on plots and plans and schematics for Pride that weekend and the myriad of potential deployments and stationing of teams and foot patrols across the route and around the city in case anything erupted, and his brain was swimming in his skull at the thought of anything else that required thinking.

Maybe he was lying to himself.

Whatever his reasoning was, he skipped going to the art class for the week. Instead, he spent the evening with Chris curled under his arm while they watched a movie. He jerked awake when Chris patted his cheek.

"Movie's finished, Dad," Chris said, his eyes moving between the TV and Eddie's face.

Eddie yawned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Time for bed for both of us then," he said, lifting Chris to his feet and setting him in the bathroom to change into his pyjamas and brush his teeth.

As Eddie lay in bed and closed his eyes, he let himself admit at least some fragment of the truth: he wasn't sure how he would've felt if he'd noticed another fresh pink Mark on Buck's skin.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The images in this chapter come from my amazing artist, Jay. They are in the original art post on Tumblr. There's also an image in Chapter 2 now, which she sketched out to try to capture Eddie's doodlings of Buck. 
> 
> I kinda like this chapter for it's use of Eddie at work, Eddie with Buck, and Eddie with Chris. It introduces a few more layers of Buck and as I know I'd said on the Discord at one point, these two are alllllllll about the verbal foreplay. It's kind of disgusting!
> 
> Let me know if you like it with a comment below or find me on [Tumblr](https://an-alternate-world.tumblr.com/), where I really need to sort ouf queueing up a whole bunch of posts again before it turns into a ghost town.....oops.


	5. Chapter 5

**Word Count:** 3,964  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

He leaned against the truck, arms resting on the butt of his M4 rifle in an attempt to look relaxed and unthreatening. Crowds drifted by, eyeing their tac gear with obvious apprehension. The black truck behind them was large enough to suggest more weapons could be used if someone got a stupid idea. Their neutral faces hidden by dark sunglasses probably did little to make them appear approachable.

It wasn't as though Eddie liked to appear _dangerous_ but they were a small part of an intricate network that was scattered across the city to protect hundreds of thousands of people. If they were seen, and spoken about, and that deterred someone from an act of violence? Then their meticulous planning worked. Then he'd done his job well.

He'd lost track of how many people could have crossed in front of him during the many hours in the sun and he knew he was going to have a lot of strange tan lines across his arms from the straps, buckles and gloves, but as hot as it was, the truck afforded them enough shade that he could survive. Besides, he'd been in Afghanistan in the middle of summer in far more gear that was heavier and thicker than what he was wearing now. You didn't wear short sleeves in Afghanistan. You didn't leave some of your gear in the truck.

And yet somehow, amid all the milling crowds that he absently scanned for potential threats or drugs or drunkenness or outright stupidity, his eyes caught on the one face he wouldn't have expected to be here.

He straightened his spine, feeling Walker glance towards him like he'd perceived a problem and needed to raise his guard, but Eddie shook his head slightly. Even though Walker wasn't sure what he was looking at, Buck wasn't a threat. Buck didn't even seem to have noticed him, standing thirty feet away amid the swirl of the crowd and dressed in all his gear. But Eddie, who had spent hours with his eyes drifting over that face and torso, would recognise his body anywhere.

Eddie was glad for the dark sunglasses because they concealed how his eyes dragged over Buck's bare chest. The sheen of sweat was noticeable among the smeared pink, yellow and blue glittery handprints that adorned Buck's chest and neck. They concealed or disguised many of the Marks that littered his skin. Across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose was a similar pink, yellow and blue series of streaks in paint, which snaked down his arms and interrupted the lines of tattoos and Marks. When he lifted his hand to his ear, talking to someone that Eddie couldn't hope to guess and turning to look in the other direction, Eddie memorised the large pink, yellow and blue heart that spread across the wings of his shoulder blades and tapered towards the small of his back, ending where the line of his cut-off khakis began.

Eddie knew what those colours meant.

And Buck was obviously _very_ committed to wearing them on every available patch of skin.

What Eddie wasn't sure about were what those colours meant in relation to being invited to the bar, where he'd then watched Buck chat with that girl. Did it change anything? He couldn't tell. He'd like to ask, but that meant he'd have to go to the art class next week. Which then meant he'd have to sit through an excruciating 90 minutes of trying to draw something abominable before he could ask Buck something in the scant minutes before he had to leave for a shift at the bar.

The crowds shifted and his brief vision of Buck was gone, swallowed by the sea as if he'd never been there at all.

His heart thumped a little at the thought of the sea and he resumed his position of leaning against the truck.

"You good?" Walker muttered, no doubt still scanning the rest of the crowds after Eddie had gotten distracted by a single person.

"Yeah, man." He nodded, patted his rifle, began wandering his eyes over unfamiliar faces again. "Just thought I saw someone."

Walker hummed, tilting his head from side to side to stretch his neck. "It feels like all of LA has walked past us at this point. I could've seen the same person ten times and I wouldn't even know."

"Don't let Grant know you said that. If you've seen the same person ten times and can't tell, we could be about to have a serious situation on our hands."

Walker bumped his elbow and Eddie bumped back, both wearing similar grins.

"Glad you got your sense of humour back, man. Was starting to think we'd lost you to the Black Dog."

Eddie looked at Walker, who was very obviously looking at the crowds to avoid his surprised stare. "I wasn't _depressed_ , Walker."

"Weren't you?" Walker's eyebrows twitched above his sunglasses, lips pursing briefly. "You have to know you weren't okay."

And…yeah, okay, Eddie knew _that_ much.

"Losing Shannon was… It was a lot."

Walker's shoulder brushed his again. "I know, brother."

Eddie returned his attention to the crowds but it didn't feel uncomfortable to stand beside his best friend and second-in-command. For the first time in almost a year, Eddie felt as though his breathing was in sync with the rest of his team.

It was as startling as it was familiar and welcome.

* * *

He stopped attempting to draw Buck when he saw him the following week, instead sketching the outline of handprints that were spotted with glitter, or the stretch of shoulders and the lines of a back covered in a large painted heart. The proportions were wrong, and he couldn't get the shadowing right to make it look like the curve of Buck's spine, but it was more appealing than sticking to the mundane task that had been assigned that week.

Natalie hadn't commented on his absence last week and Buck looked nothing less than impassively at the wall. It jumbled Eddie's brain after their conversation two weeks ago and seeing him at Pride on the weekend. He was pretty sure he could still see speckles of glitter near Buck's collarbone and if he squinted, he thought Buck's skin looked stained with pink and blue. It wasn't doing much for his concentration as he mulled over what he could say to Buck later but he supposed it reassured him that Buck _had_ been at Pride, that he hadn't somehow mistaken Buck for someone else.

The minutes ticked by until class wrapped up. Eddie took his time, catching Buck's eyes when he pulled the t-shirt over his head. Buck blinked at him, inclined his head in a silent question, and Eddie nodded once.

The others filtered out, the buzz of conversation gradually diminishing. Natalie glanced between him and Buck with a question on her lips. Buck shook his head at her and she swallowed it away and left. And then Eddie was left with Buck's curious but controlled gaze on him.

"Missed you last week," Buck said, his voice deliberately light when it became evident Eddie didn't know how to break the ice that had somehow formed between them.

Eddie leaned against the table, biting the inside of his lip. "Work stuff came up." He hesitated, gaze catching on the stripe of glitter beneath Buck's ear. "I...saw you on the weekend."

"Oh?" Buck's eyebrows rose, a small curl at the edge of his lips. "I hope it was earlier in the day."

Eddie's eyes flicked towards a corner of the ceiling, tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Your paint and glitter were mostly intact, yes."

Buck laughed and it helped thaw the ice enough that some of the tension in Eddie's shoulders loosened. "What did you think?"

Eddie hoped his face didn't flush as dark as it felt with the way Buck was staring at him when Eddie's eyes gradually made their way back. "It was a...a good look. I'm not sure I could pull it off."

"Oh, I don't know." Buck's gaze skipped over him and it was _very_ obvious what he was doing which _drastically_ changed Eddie's perception of being invited to the bar a couple of weeks ago. "You could sign up to be Nat's model next semester. Maybe I'll draw you."

Eddie was pretty sure he forgot how to breathe at the blatant pick-up line, the deliberate heat behind the blue eyes. He might have misunderstood what joining Buck at the bar while he worked meant, but there was no misunderstanding him now.

"Well, I- I hope your drawing skills are better than mine. Otherwise I'll be getting my shirt off for no reason," he said after a terribly long pause dragging his thoughts into some semblance of order.

"Are you saying this," Buck gestured at his shirt, "has been for no reason?"

"I'm pretty sure I have pages of reasons. They're just not very good ones," Eddie replied and Buck's lips curled into a smile, eyes sparkling.

"But you _have_ reasons?"

Eddie pressed his lips together, eyebrow arching. "Are we still talking about drawing?"

Buck hummed, taking half a step towards him. Eddie's heartbeat ticked up. "I don't know. Can we start over from the part where you said it was a good look that I was covered in paint and glitter?"

Eddie bit his bottom lip at the smile threatening to break out again. It shouldn't be this easy to talk to someone, or for that talking to lead to flirting. It shouldn't be so easy to play along with it rather than freaking out and running away. "Are you seeking more ego stroking?"

Buck snorted. "Please. Me without a shirt isn't something you haven't seen before."

"True." He tilted his head, tracking Buck's gradual approach to him, noting the steady increase in his heartbeat the closer Buck got, the decrease in depth of his breathing. "You still have glitter on you."

"Have you ever tried to get rid of glitter?" Buck rubbed behind his ear, no doubt knowing about the smear that remained. "It's a disaster. It gets everywhere. On your clothes. On your sheets." He paused, barely blinking as he looked at Eddie. Had his eyes always looked navy? Eddie had always thought they looked like the ocean on a clear day. "On other people."

"Oh?" He managed to keep his feet under him, somehow standing, somehow steady. "I'll have to be careful then."

There was a foot of space between them, his blood warming to the point of boiling, his heart carving new grooves into his lungs and rib cage. There were butterflies swarming in his stomach for the first time in almost a decade, throttling his throat as Buck gazed at him.

"Best to keep your hands to yourself," Buck said, voice quietening, Adam's apple bobbing.

"Why would I do a stupid thing like that?" he muttered, fingers tangling into Buck's shirt and pulling him closer because _enough_ already.

Buck huffed around a laugh, breath fanning across Eddie's mouth as large hands cradled his jaw. "We forgot about glitter on _my_ hands."

"What a shame," he mumbled without a trace of disappointment, pressing his lips against Buck's before he lost his nerve or lost his damn mind.

He could feel Buck's smile against his mouth and the shudder that spilled down his frame, and his heart thudded when Buck's fingers tilted his head. Buck's tongue swiped against his bottom lip and his breathing hitched, fingers unfurling to spread across muscles he'd spent months attempting to draw. Touching was better than drawing, though. Touching drew Buck towards him, made Buck gasp into his mouth in ways that made Eddie keep spreading fingers across his torso and twist into the fabric of his shirt.

Eddie nipped his teeth into Buck's bottom lip, absently noting the way Buck's fingers twitched against his jaw, and then tried to soothe the pain with his tongue. He was pretty certain it was Buck who whimpered and Eddie found his hands skimming down to clasp at the curve of his waist, stealing the breath from the taller man's lungs as if it would somehow make Eddie less dizzy.

It was over too quickly and yet Eddie thought he was probably seeing glitter across his vision when Buck pulled away, resting their foreheads together. Eddie tried to steady his breathing, gazing into a shade of blue he'd never seen before directly in front of him.

"I _really_ have to get to work," Buck complained with a soft laugh, kissing Eddie again, gentle and quick. Then his hands were gone and Eddie thought he might have to get one of the EMTs to check him for burns tomorrow. "Drive safe," he said, reddened lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he smiled almost shyly, ducked his head, and then fled from the room.

Eddie was still dazed at least five minutes later, index finger reaching up to tug at his lower lip in disbelief that he'd actually _done_ that. The walk to his car was on autopilot, as was the fifteen-minute drive home. He kissed Abuela's cheeks and wondered if she could feel the way they tingled.

"Is everything alright, Edmundo?" she said, cupping his jaw like Buck had done barely half an hour ago, staring into his eyes like she could see through all the layers that had been split open with a thorough kiss by a very attractive man.

"Yeah, Abuela." He captured her wrist, kissed her knuckles, let his fingers slip over hers to squeeze reassuringly. "I think I just need to get some rest."

She nodded, patted his cheek with her other hand. "Duerma bien, nieto."

"And you," he said, leading her out of the house and giving her a wave as she backed out of his driveway.

He still felt like he was floating as he swapped his clothes for sweatpants, brushed his teeth, ran a hand through his tousled hair. He wasn't _vain_ but he spent some time looking at the lines of his abs, thinking about Buck's joke to draw him. He was sure Buck would like what he saw if he had the chance.

With a dopey smile, he snapped off the bathroom light, padded across the hall to his room and fell among the blankets and pillows.

For the first time in almost a year, he didn't acknowledge Shannon's photo before he went to bed.

* * *

"Dad?"

He rubbed at his eyes with one hand and raised the mug of coffee to his lips with the other, squinting slightly at Chris who was far more of a morning person than Eddie could ever pretend to be. Even with an almost delightful stretch of uninterrupted sleep for the first time since last August, he still wasn't a fan of mornings.

"Yeah, mijo?"

"What's the thing on your shoulder?"

He frowned, his attentive stare on the toaster temporarily abandoned to look at Chris. "The thing on my shoulder?"

"Yeah." Chris crossed his right arm over his chest, fingers tapping behind his shoulder. "You got a thing there."

His eyes darted towards his shoulder but he already knew there was no way he'd be able to see it without a mirror. He left the toaster to stride to the hall, the mirror by the door offering the perfect height and decent enough lighting to-

Oh

 _Oh_.

Oh _fuck_.

His right hand raised to cross his chest like Chris had done, although he had better reach and more coordination. His fingertips caught on the back of his shoulder, tracing the blood-red Mark that stained his skin.

Any lingering feeling of warmth or joy from the kiss the night before was swiftly doused by a bucket of iced terror.

"Dad? The toaster popped."

He swallowed, struggling against the wave of emotions that crashed over him and wasn't _that_ an ironic sort of thought.

"Be right there, buddy," he said, his voice tight as he moved through the hallway in search of a shirt. If Carla showed up and saw it, if Abuela arrived and saw it, hell if anyone in the change room saw it and asked about it…

 _Fuck_.

* * *

"You seem distracted today," Walker said, bumping his shoulder as they watched Tandy and Nicholls spar in the small ring among the training equipment. Eddie was meant to be spotting Tandy, correcting his technique to take down assailants, while Walker was shouting commands at Nicholls who was masquerading as a perp for the purposes of the exercise. So far, he hadn't found fault with anything Tandy had done.

Which wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact Nicholls had flattened him to the mat, _twice_.

"Just stuff," he mumbled, adjusting the fold of his arms over his chest and hoping the Mark on his shoulder wasn't some glowing beacon beneath his black t-shirt.

"Yeah? You wanna go out after? Drink a few? Shoot the breeze?"

He winced when Nicholls toppled Tandy to the floor again. Tandy looked at him, helplessly pleading for some sort of way to stop the torture. He'd give Tandy another few months but if he couldn't pick up his hand-to-hand skills, Eddie thought he'd have to bump him.

"You're leaving your body too open," Eddie said, gesturing at his chest and then shifting his arms from side to side. "It means you're telegraphing what you're about to do. Nicholls has enough experience to recognise it and counter it."

"You callin' me _old_ , Diaz?" Nicholls said with a grin, relaxing his grip on the much younger Tandy who clambered to his feet and tried to stand at more of an angle.

"The polite term is _experienced_ ," Eddie said, unsurprised when Nicholls flipped him off without even glancing towards him.

He watched for a couple of minutes before Walker nudged his shoulder again. "Don't think you're getting off that easy, Eddie. I nearly lost you to that monster once. I'm not about to watch you start to buckle again."

Eddie's eyes swung towards his second-in-charge. It wasn't often that they used first names on the job. They wore shields at work, armour thicker than their vests when interacting with one another like this. "I'm okay, Si," he murmured, and promised himself that he'd cover his emotions better. If Tandy was telegraphing what he was about to do to Nicholls, then Eddie was obviously telegraphing how he felt too much to Walker.

In life-or-death calls, he couldn't afford for anyone to doubt him. He couldn't allow even the faintest hint of miscalculation to creep in because he was thinking.

He'd never be able to live with himself if he lost anyone else.

* * *

Checking the Mark became almost an obsession and every time he looked at it, Eddie wasn't sure if he was grateful or infuriated that it stayed, stubbornly, blood-red. He knew it was Fate mocking him, burning colour into his skin to taunt him that he had feelings for someone he couldn't obtain, wanted someone he couldn't have, desired someone who didn't feel the same. The likelihood of Buck ever returning his feelings were small considering his array of pale pink Marks, and it was crushing and overwhelming. Crushing to realise Fate wanted to highlight the feelings in his heart that his head hadn't processed, and overwhelming that Fate _could_ decide to tie him to someone other than Shannon when she hadn't even been dead a year.

This Mark was different to his first though, the one that had now scarred. His feelings for Shannon had developed slower, a long time after hers. When he'd woken and found the half-half Mark, there'd been no ambiguity about Fate's intentions. She had been Marked first with red and when he'd returned her feelings, they finally had matching half-half Marks. He remembered feeling like such a child, fumbling his way through understanding any of the feelings that swirled through his head because Marks had been something he'd started to think were impossible for him. All the girls he'd kissed as a teenager had not left even a hint of colour on his skin.

In frustration or fear, he moved Shannon's photo from the dresser to his bedside table. He stared at it every night until his eyes burned with exhaustion, confessing all the secrets he didn't know how to tell during the day.

"I don't want to betray you," he whispered into the darkness, his sigh disrupting the stillness of the house. " _You_ left _me_ and then you _died_ and I still feel like I'm betraying you. How messed up is _that_?"

If anyone had asked, he could've sworn he heard Shannon's laugh drift around his room. Maybe that was Fate's final revenge for the Marks – parts of those you'd loved and lost stayed with you until the end, taunting you with memories and haunting you with what you'd never have again.

He rolled over, convinced the back of his left shoulder was warmer than usual, and stared at the ceiling.

"I fell for someone that will never fall for me," he admitted to the ghosts that he knew had to be circling above him. He had scraps of Buck's many pale pink Marks filling pages of a sketchbook. Maybe Eddie had gotten a deep red Mark and Buck had just gotten another pink. Maybe he had so many that it was innocuous, meaningless, and he didn't even know he had it.

He couldn't bear to think that maybe Buck hadn't even gotten a Mark at all.

"Fuck that stupid drawing class."

* * *

He hid the sketchbook on the upper-most shelf of the linen closet, out of reach of Christopher and Carla and Abuela, and did the best he could do to push the book and the class out of his mind.

He skipped class that week.

And then he skipped the next one.

He narrowed his attention to every detail at work, focused all his energy on suspects and leads, blew open doors with enthusiastic gusto, kept his hand on Walker's shoulder when they stalked through buildings in search of perps with Tandy and Nicholls and Polson sweeping their six, forced any distracting thoughts from his mind.

He resumed the routine of home to work, and work to home, and tried to ignore the restlessness beneath his skin that chewed at his toes and gnawed at his ankles.

He couldn't afford to let the carefully controlled façade slip again.

* * *

"Diaz!"

He almost jumped a foot in the air but if anyone ever asked, he'd deny it until he went to his grave.

"C-Commander?"

"Fourth of July barbecue at my place," Athena announced, her stare pinning him to the spot in the empty locker room at the end of shift. "Don't even think about trying to skip out on this one. It's been far too long since I've seen that little boy of yours."

He swallowed, attempted to conceal the grimace. "Commander, really-"

"I don't think you heard me," Athena said, the same sort of clipped tone when she was trying to intimidate a witness that seemed to be dishonest or flipping a suspect in the hopes of catching a bigger fish. "You're coming, even if I have to send the BearCat through your front door and D Platoon Shift B drags your ass out." She paused, one eyebrow raised. "Did you hear me that time?"

He nodded mutely. He couldn't afford the repair costs that the vehicle would inflict on his house, and she knew it.

She smiled like a shark, nodded at him, and strode out of the room like she hadn't just scared the shit out of him.

Not least of all because he was still standing there without a t-shirt to cover the Mark on his shoulder.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEN I TELL YOU I _SCREAMED_ ABOUT JAY'S DRAWING OF BUCK AT PRIDE!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Also these two are such absolute _idiots_ and the amount of times I referred to all their talking as verbal foreplay.... I sweaaaaaar.....


	6. Chapter 6

**Word Count:** 5,032  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

**Warnings:** This chapter refers to a police incident that could be perceived as suicide-by-cop. Please be gentle with yourself.

* * *

"We aren't going to stay late, alright?" Eddie reminded Chris as he unbuckled his belt and lifted him from the car.

"I know, I know," Chris sighed, holding out his hands which closed around his crutches to steady his wobbly legs when Eddie passed them to him. "We haven't seen Auntie 'Thena in months though."

And that...was fair. It probably dated back to the New Year's party, or maybe Christmas. They'd had shifts through Easter, he knew that much.

Still, Eddie didn't want to get caught and stay late. He managed to survive in SWAT because he was in charge of explosive detonations and knew when they were going to go off down to the second. He could zone into a 'work mode' space which allowed him to deal with executing difficult warrants.

But the erratic nature of fireworks and firecrackers?

He still struggled with those and he suspected he always would.

Eddie's fingers pressed against the back of his son's neck, walking alongside him as they approached the door and followed the hubbub of noise inside. He could immediately tell there were more people than he'd expected inside, and he could see through the glass panels that there were others milling around outside too.

"Dad," Chris said, tugging at his sleeve as if sensing Eddie's dread at all the people and offering a distraction. "Help?"

He lifted Chris into his hip to move down the dozen stairs that were a danger to navigate. Chris' feet settled on the floor again and he was off, already spotting Harry and one of the kids that Eddie knew belonged to a firefighter chasing each other in the backyard.

"He's getting big," Nicholls said, sidling up to him with an extra beer in hand. "Still cute as a button though. No idea where he gets it from because it's sure not you."

"That's payback for implying you were old, wasn't it?" Eddie said, lightly punching Nicholls in the arm as he followed the senior member of the team outside to where Tandy and Walker were sprawled on some deck chairs. "This guy just called me ugly."

"Ugly? I just said you weren't cute," Nicholls defended, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist.

Jennifer rolled her eyes at her husband and reached out to pull Eddie into a loose hug. "Don't mind him. He's just self-conscious of those grey hairs he keeps hearing about," she stage-whispered into Eddie's ear, making Tandy and Walker start laughing at Nicholls' outraged expression.

Eddie's amused eyes flicked between her and Nicholls. "I'll bear it in mind. Should I put hair dye or removal cream in his shampoo?"

She chuckled, releasing him and folding back into Nicholls' arm. "What do you reckon, honey? Go bald?"

"Hell nah!" he insisted, rubbing at his hair with a panicked expression.

"Alright, now that we've sufficiently freaked out Nicholls, what have I missed?" he said with a grin, eyeing Tandy and Walker.

Walker's eyes wandered towards where Chris was laughing at Molly flattening Harry into the ground. "At what point do I tell my daughter that she's jeopardising my job with the Sarge because she keeps taking down Sarge's kid?"

"Hey, d'you reckon she could teach me a thing or two?" Tandy asked, bouncing a little on the spot.

Eddie turned an exasperated pair of eyes towards the youngest member of his team, sometimes wondering if he was ever going to stop seeming like an over-eager puppy. "Ray, if I can't teach you something, what makes you think Simon's twelve-year-old daughter can?"

Some of the enthusiasm in Tandy's eyes deflated. "There's not really a nice way to answer that diplomatically so I'm going to get a fresh drink before you smack my head," he announced, scurrying away even as Eddie mockingly raised his hand in his general direction.

Conversation drifted for a while and Eddie kept a close eye on Chris. He really should get in touch with Walker and Athena more often to allow his son the chance to see Molly and Harry outside of these get-togethers that he felt obligated to attend, or at the very least ordered.

There was a tap at his left shoulder and he turned, eyebrows furrowing when there was nothing but empty air behind him.

"Ed?"

He blinked at Walker, flashing a smile as he attempted to conceal the unsettling sting in his shoulder. "Sorry, you were saying something about scuba recoveries?"

"Yeah, so-" Walker's voice washed over him but it paled in comparison to how the sting was gradually turning into a burning. He fumbled a hand to his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh like that would somehow make it more bearable.

"Hey, sorry, I need to-" He gestured towards the house and Walker was frowning at him again but he took off, feet carrying him in the direction of cold water or ice or something sharp. As if cutting out the flesh was even a solution to erasing a Mark.

He stumbled his way through the house until he found Athena's bathroom, hands gripping at the sink as he stared at the pallid reflection in front of him. It wasn't meant to be like this, was it? Had Shannon been in this sort of pain before his Mark had come through? She'd never said anything and it was too long ago now to remember clearly but surely Shannon would have told him.

Splashing some water on his face, trying to cool the heat that spread across his skin, he decided he'd faced worse and could ignore this, could push through the pain, could ensure his son had fun with the other kids.

"You can do this," he whispered to his reflection, thumb grazing the scar on the inside of his wrist like somehow his severed tie to Shannon was a better anchor than the raw agony carving grooves into his shoulder.

He ran a hand through his hair and sucked in the deepest breath he could, exhaling it as he exited the bathroom and navigated through the house to return to the party. Some of the pain in his shoulder dulled to a sharp throbbing and if it stayed like that, maybe he could concentrate on the conversations swirling around him. He spotted Athena by a snacks table and she gave him a little wave that he returned, and then he turned to go outside again and re-join the guys and-

Blinked.

A lot.

Blue eyes blinked at him.

" _You're_ here?" Eddie said, his words squeaking past the barrier that had formed in his throat.

"Yes?" Buck stared at him in obvious confusion, eyes catching somewhere over Eddie's shoulder for a moment before settling on his face again. "You know Athena?"

"She's…my boss," Eddie said, increasingly hopeful that the ground would just open up and swallow him any time now. LA had sinkholes all the time, right? Could an Eddie-sized one form now? Right in the middle of Athena's living room?

"You're _SWAT_?" Buck's eyebrows had risen so high towards his hairline, the creases had hidden half the blotch near his eyebrow.

Eddie nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and barely able to meet Buck's eyes. "Yeah, I- Uh- Athena was the one that…ordered me to find a way to decompress between shifts."

Buck was still blinking at him.

"So, uh… What's your connection to…to all this?" he said with a vague gesture at the assorted people.

"Buck!" A short brunette bounced over, arms wrapping around Buck's waist as she pressed into his side and _oh_. Okay then. That... Yeah. That didn't make his shoulder flare anew. "I send you off for drinks and you get caught talking to people? And you always claim _Chim_ 's the social butterfly."

"Mads-" Buck sighed, arm draping around her shoulder as he kissed the top of her hair. Eddie looked away, trying to disguise how he gritted his teeth.

"Nope, don't try to make excuses for yourself," she scolded, jabbing him in the chest. "Now, who's the cute guy and how do we know him?"

Eddie's eyes snapped towards her and she reminded him vaguely of Natalie with her dark hair and dark eyes.

"Uh… Eddie knows Nat," Buck explained, drawing Eddie's eyes towards him because that wasn't…really true. But there was something about the look in Buck's eyes and the slightest shake of his head that made it clear the woman didn't know about the drawing classes, so Eddie held his tongue. "He's in SWAT with Athena. Small world, huh?"

"Nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to the first responder community," she said, patting Buck's chest. "You forget how many barbecues I've been to with Chim. Everyone seems to know everyone."

"That's true," Eddie conceded, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. "You get to know a lot of the people in the responder community for your district if you're in a set region. You see some groups often enough at calls that you figure out who you can rely on or who will be there or their positioning. It saves a lot of time and reduces the relay of conflicting information sometimes."

The woman nodded. "We try to have dispatches overlap as much as possible for that reason."

Eddie's eyebrows rose as he looked at her. "You're in dispatch?"

She grinned, held out a hand to him. "Maddie Buckley. You probably haven't heard me over the radios but I've certainly put calls through to Athena for threat assessments."

_Buckley_? He grasped her hand even as his attention switched from her to Buck and back again, some of the irritation in his chest that had knitted together loosening. There was something familiar about the name but he couldn't place it when he was distracted.

"My 'big' sister," Buck confirmed with a wiggle of his fingers around 'big'.

"Hey," she protested with another poke to his chest once she'd released Eddie's hand. "Just because you got Dad's genes and I got Mom's doesn't mean you can make fun of my height."

Buck sighed, a playful smile at the edge of his lips. "Mads, you've been making fun of me since I was in the womb. I will always be catching up to you."

"And don't you forget it, baby bro," she teased, giving his arm a squeeze and then drifting towards the drinks table.

Eddie blinked after her.

"So my sister is dating a firefighter," Buck said, with a wave towards the outside area. "Chim's in Bobby's firehouse."

"And Bobby is married to Athena," Eddie supplied as he started to put some of the connections together, making Buck nod. "So you're here…?"

Buck shrugged. "Because I didn't have to work at the bar today and Mads didn't want me home alone. Something about how it'd be good for me to 'get out and see people'." Buck rolled his eyes. "She doesn't seem to care that I don't know most of the people here as well as she does."

Eddie was tempted to say Buck knew _him_ , but how true was that really? For two people that had spent months in the same vicinity, they really didn't know much at all about each other. His surprise at seeing Buck in a space like _this_ only proved that.

"Dad!"

His instincts had him turning before he'd even made the decision to move, eyes catching on Chris' curly head moving towards him. He slid to one knee as Chris approached, holding out a hand and scanning for new cuts and scrapes and bruises because that was usually the only reason his son sounded so distressed. "Mijo? Que pasa?"

Chris folded into his chest, lips close to his ear as he whispered, "The bathroom's upstairs, right?"

He realised his mistake and understood immediately, lifting Chris into his arms and kissing his head. He'd almost forgotten Buck had been standing right behind him until he turned and caught the look on Buck's face that he couldn't quite pinpoint before it was gone.

"Uh… Dad duties," he said with an apologetic smile.

"It's cool," Buck said with a small wave.

Eddie cradled Chris to his chest as he climbed the stairs. "Having fun catching up with Harry and Molly?"

"Yeah, 'cept Denny keeps teasing them and it's making Harry mad."

"Teasing them?" _Denny_ , that was the name of the firefighter's kid he couldn't remember. "Why's he doing that?"

"He keeps saying they're too old to wrestle and they just wanna kiss," Chris said with a small shrug. Eddie almost tripped up a stair at the thought of kids kissing. At _Chris_ kissing anyone. Christ. He wasn't ready for those sorts of conversations. "Kissing's gross though."

"Is it?" He set Chris' feet on the ground at the top of the stairs and tapped his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. "You didn't say that when Mom and I used to kiss."

"Yeah but that's 'cause you _loved_ each other," Chris said simply, following Eddie through the corridor. "And you're Mom and Dad and it's… It's not like Harry and Molly. They're kids."

They _were_ kids and Eddie resolved never to breathe a word of what Chris had said to Walker. He could imagine _both_ Denny and Harry getting strung from a beam that kept them out of reach of Walker's daughter and used for pinata practice.

Chris disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door like he hadn't just made Eddie feel like time was passing far too quickly. It felt like he'd need to have very clear conversations about consent and appropriateness of interactions and the significance of different coloured Marks soon, and he wasn't ready for that. He couldn't remember how old he was when his parents had talked to him, or maybe it had been Abuela. He just remembered learning that Marks were special and being scared that his feelings would end up on his skin for all the world to see.

His shoulder twinged as if to remind him that that particular fear had never abated.

Chris reappeared with a calmer smile and Eddie ran a hand over his hair. "Hands washed?"

"Yep."

He carried Chris down the stairs and was only mildly surprised that Buck was hovering at the bottom. He swallowed, looking between Buck and his kid against his hip.

"Chris, this is Buck," he introduced, trying to gauge what might be flickering through Chris' mind as his eyes roamed over Buck.

"I know you," Chris said, brow scrunching as he tried to figure it out. Then his eyes lit up and he pointed his finger at Buck's arm. "You tried to draw that, right?"

Eddie wasn't sure what to do with his face at that comment, which made Buck snort. "Uh…Yeah, buddy. That… That's right."

Chris nodded, looking at Buck's face again. "You're not very good at drawing his face, Dad."

" _Okay_ , that's enough art criticism for the day," Eddie grunted, planting Chris' feet on the ground and attempting to give him a little push towards the sliding door. "Off you go, little brat."

Chris grinned at him with such warmth that it melted Eddie's attempt at a stern expression into his own smile and then he was gone and Eddie was left with Buck's very amused look.

"I guess you were right, then. Your drawing skills _do_ suck."

Eddie did his best to appear outraged, pushing at Buck's chest as the guy grinned at him. "Maybe I'm just not good at _art_."

Buck hummed, head tilting to one side. "I'm sure we can find other things that you're _good_ at to help you decompress after shifts if you'd prefer."

The Mark on his shoulder tingled. It was probably meant to feel good, tugging him closer to someone Fate wanted to tease him with, but he used it as a reminder to pull himself away, shoving his hands in his pockets, forcing himself to step back and put distance between them.

He swallowed, unable to meet Buck's eyes, unable to determine a response when his team were outside and his son was somewhere and Buck's sister was in the vicinity. Buck seemed to have no boundaries and Eddie… Eddie had too much anxiety when he realised there was a complicated web that apparently connected them.

_Fuck_ , he was a coward.

He scurried away without a backward glance, afraid his face might turn the colour of the Mark, and squashed himself onto the grass near Walker and Nicholls like some kid closer to Chris' age seeking protection from the tickle monster. There was a sick chill in his stomach that was at odds with the heat across his shoulders and he knew, every time he lifted his eyes in search of Buck, that Fate was laughing at him.

* * *

Eddie forgot what it was to have time to himself. Once Chris started school holidays, Eddie's capacity to have time to himself ended. His 'home to work, work to home' routine returned with a vengeance. And Eddie adored his son, he really did, but his lack of opportunity to decompress was wearing his patience thin.

"Dad?"

Eddie finished tucking Chris into bed and sat on the edge next to him. "Yeah, mijo?"

"Why haven't you gone to draw Buck lately?"

Eddie opened his mouth, closed it, blinked at his kid and ran some fingers through his hair. "I wanted to spend all my time with my favourite little man."

Chris' brow wrinkled as Eddie peeled away the red glasses, planting them on the bedside table. "But you're sad again."

"I-" He stared at Chris in disbelief. "I'm what?"

Chris stared at him, eyes wide and trusting in their innocence. "You're sad again. Like before you went to the classes."

Eddie was at a loss as to how to explain anything to his son in ways that would make sense. He was Marked, for only the second time in his life, to someone who had been Marked dozens of times. Fate was taunting him with the impossibilities.

"I'm okay, bud. The classes finished up anyway," he explained, figuring a little white lie would never be found out. "They're like school. You get holidays and we do too."

"Does that mean you're going to go again?"

"I…" He swallowed. "I don't know, bud." He trailed fingers to the back of Chris' neck. "I'm sorry you think I've been sad lately."

Chris hummed, wriggling against the pillow. "Is it because of mom?"

He'd already told one little white lie for the evening. What was the harm in a second? "Yeah, it's… D'you still miss her too?"

Chris nodded, rubbing his fists at his eyes in a sign that he was obviously tired. "I miss her every day."

Eddie draped his arm around Chris, tucking him into his side and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Me too, kiddo."

He held Chris until his weight started to sag, until his small breaths turned slow, and Eddie gazed at the sweet expression on his face that concealed so much worry and concern and love and intelligence.

If his kid could see straight through his masks, then it wouldn't be long before his squad – or worse, Athena – started asking more questions.

* * *

Eddie tried to return to drawing in the evenings after he put Chris to bed, using random pieces of paper and a pen to doodle shapes that had vague resemblances to something human. But it wasn't the same, and he was loath to dig out the sketchbook and start examining what he'd already done, the reference images for someone he needed to push out of his mind.

Yet somehow, almost a week later, he made up a lie to Abuela and told her he was going out to have drinks with the team. Instead, he ended up in the car park of the community centre, eyeing Buck's bike near the entrance and knowing he was so close, knowing the tethering through the Mark almost demanded he make his presence known. It was almost painful to be so close, reminding him of the ache he'd experienced at Athena's that had turned into a stinging sensation. He tried to distract himself by sketching again, tried to find that calm place that being in Buck's vicinity seemed to bring, but all he ended up feeling was more and more angry at his terrible drawings and his terrible situation and his fury at Shannon.

When he saw the first couple of people leave the front doors, signalling class was over, Eddie turned the ignition and drove away before anyone could possibly recognise his truck.

The hurt in his shoulder might've receded as he drove away, but the tightness across his chest almost certainly increased.

* * *

They'd been running breach drills for a couple of hours on a studio lot in Culver City, experimenting with how to use some of the new acquisitions in a variety of simulations alongside a production crew to provide realism to their show. Eddie was beginning to wonder if he'd been too harsh in his assessment of Tandy's poor hand-to-hand to combat skills, because the kid was able to adapt to all of the new tech faster than the rest of them and explain it in terms that the producers and cast understood. Nicholls had spent at least fifteen minutes trying to understand how to use the tablet to coordinate multiple mock explosive devices, and there were at least two of the new pepper and beanbag guns where Polson had struggled with the significant recoil after firing dummy rounds at a wall.

There were still a lot of hours until the end of the shift but Eddie was on the verge of calling a break or a return to HQ when his phone pinged. A fraction of a second later, the whole squad's phones pinged. They all knew what that meant.

"Let's go," he announced, freeing his phone from his pocket as they moved to the BearCat. He swallowed at the location spread across the screen, feeling Walker and Nicholls' eyes swing towards him as Tandy scurried into the rig and Polson jumped into the driver's seat. "Gear up."

Their vests, tac belts and M4s were all in neat piles on the floor and though there wasn't a lot of room in the back of the truck to manoeuvre, it came with the territory of the job. Depending on the way the call was going down, he could either leave Polson in the vehicle or provide enough coverage once they disembarked for her to put on her gear.

He tapped at his phone screen and flicked the device onto speaker mode. "What have we got?"

"A man with a death wish on Santa Monica Beach," Athena announced, her voice piercing the rumble of the vehicle. "Patrol sighted a gun at his back but he keeps saying he has a bomb vest. Reports are unclear whether he's a vic who has been dropped at that location or a bomber. Reinforcements are clearing the beach. You need to run a threat assessment to determine a course of action."

Also known as, take the guy out or take the guy down.

"Copy."

He ended the call and swallowed, fingers tapping against some of the straps as he processed the scant information and made some decisions.

"Walker, with me. Nicholls, Tandy, provide cover to Polson while she gears up. You three tell patrol to keep their weapons down and the civilians back, Walker and I will try to engage for the assessment."

The beach was clear, a straining crowd trapped behind a line of tape and barriers and patrol cars. Eddie pointed at the three and made a gesture to encourage the crowds further back. If their guy had a vest, too many people would see too much and be traumatised.

Eddie could hear Walker's footfalls behind him as his eyes scanned over the man sitting along the stump of the pier. Almost a year later and there still weren't clear plans about what to do to rebuild it. The man was on his knees, wearing an overly large tan leather jacket. Slightly balding, his head snapped up when Eddie's boots hit the first timber plank. Mid-forties, white, brown eyes that darted everywhere.

"Don't come any closer!"

Eddie stilled, feeling Walker tap his back so that he knew where he was. "I just want to talk."

"I don't."

Well. That answered the 'is he a vic or a perp' question.

"My name's Sergeant Diaz. _Eddie_. What's your name?"

The man stared at him, clearly running his own assessments. "George."

He gave a small tilt of his head. "On it," Walker muttered behind him, radioing through the first name to HQ. Someone would already be running facial rec but a name could narrow the search.

Eddie swallowed, gaze flicking over George to determine how much of a threat he truly was. He seemed almost disturbingly calm, which was never a good sign. "Hey George. You want to tell me why you're here today?"

George looked around, making a vague sort of wave with his left hand that didn't look steady. A non-dominant hand. His right was tucked inside his sleeve. Holding a trigger or a switch?

"It's where my family died."

Eddie felt his stomach and lungs twist, like a wrung-out towel. His heart thumped harder in his chest, memories scraping claws into muscles and bones.

"Diaz-"

He shook his head, lowering his rifle as he took half a step towards George. "I get it, George."

"It's not worth it without them." George's voice cracked and it felt like something pierced all the way through Eddie's heart too.

"I know, man. I get it. I really do. A- A lot of people died here that day." He knew his voice shifted slightly, a fraction higher than the calm negotiating voice he'd been trained into using. He knew Walker would catch it but it was impossible not to feel rattled at the words he needed to say, at the words he was hearing.

His earpiece crackled. "George Reynolds, 46, two kids and a wife who died in the tsunami," Anders at HQ rattled off. "Carl, 10, and Lucy, 8, were found. Wife, Penny, was never recovered. Credit card purchases show evidence of purchasing a revolver but no signs of bomb-making equipment."

Eddie took another step closer, flicking the safety onto his rifle because he knew Walker would be at his back if that's what was needed. "Stay alert, but this is a man who has given up. I don't believe he's a threat to us," he murmured into the mic clipped to his collar.

"I have a clear line, Sarge," Nicholls reported.

"Covered from the cross angle," Tandy added.

"At Walker's six."

He lifted a closed fist off the trigger of his gun, wordlessly telling tell his squad to hold fire, fixing his entire attention on George's eyes and trying to determine how to talk him off this ledge. "George, I don't think you really want to end everything this way."

"Don't I?" George's smile was pained, his eyes shimmering. "There's nothing left."

"I know it feels that way but-"

"LISTEN TO ME."

George rose to his feet and, though Eddie stopped creeping closer, he kept his hand off his rifle. There was a burst of chatter in his earpiece requesting advice and he tugged it free, both hands raised to George and his team to stay calm, to stay in control, to not do anything rash.

"I'm listening, George. I'm listening. What do you want me to hear?"

George's face crumpled and he shook his head. "What's the point? There's no one you could give a message to, anyway. There's no one left."

Eddie felt the chills settling across his shoulders and in his blood. "Stay with me, George. C'mon. You said I needed to listen, right? What did you want me to hear?"

George shook his head, turning towards the wrecked edge of the pier, looking towards the ocean that had taken so much from both of them. "They never found her, you know. I never got to bury her. I never got to say goodbye. One minute they were here, we were laughing, and the next…"

Eddie lowered his rifle to hang from his shoulders, wondering how much George's story mirrored Chris'. His stomach churned as he took half a step closer. "That has to have been difficult."

" _Difficult_? That was-"

George's body dropped before Eddie heard the shot, before he'd even opened his mouth to remind his team to stand down. The revolver that had been whirled from George's jacket clattered across the tatters of the pier. A blossom of ruby red spread across the tan jacket. His glazed eyes stared at the sky.

Eddie surged forward, panic and fury leaving him acting on instincts he was meant to have suppressed on calls like this. "George? George!" His fingers pressed roughly into George's neck even as Walker peeled apart his jacket. The red was spreading across a pale blue t-shirt, with no sign of any sort of vest or explosives anywhere on his body.

"Sarge-"

"What the _hell_ was that?" His eyes moved from Walker, to Polson, to Tandy and Nicholls further back who were jogging towards them. "What made one of you think-"

It was Polson who averted her eyes first, and he gritted his teeth so hard they could have shattered.

"You're out," he snapped, stalking towards her and narrowly resisting the urge to throttle her, to throw her off the pier for her violation of orders that had cost a man his life. It didn't matter that George said he didn't have anyone: he didn't have to _die_. "Your orders were _clear_. You were to _hold_ your fire."

Polson's green eyes wavered as she attempted to look at him, and then past his shoulder to where George's prone body was. "There was imminent danger-"

His rage flared, thick and hot and blindingly fast. "Don't you _dare_ -"

"Sarge." Walker's hand clamped around his shoulder, tight enough to make pain bloom across his vision and poke holes in some of the red haze that had his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Walk it off."

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few more breadcrumbs, a little more foreshadowing, some necessary pain.....
> 
> Next chapter is a _giant_ one because there was no clear place to divide it so.....be prepaaaareeed....


	7. Chapter 7

**Word Count:** 11,386 (there was really nowhere I could find to split this chapter...)  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

 **Warnings:** This chapter contains explicit sexual content.

* * *

He was hours overtime by the time he finally left HQ, hands hidden inside the pockets of his hoodie even though there was still heat embedded in the concrete, and the walls, and his car. It didn't matter that it was closer to midnight than midday, that somewhere above all the light pollution of LA were galaxies of stars and constellations. None of it could be seen. None of it could be felt. None of it seemed to matter.

Ordinarily, he'd want to go home and sleep because Chris would be up early and there were things like breakfast to deal with and activities to plan. But they'd all had to provide detailed statements to explain why Polson had pulled the trigger and Walker had said the magical words "emotionally compromised" during the debrief. If he'd had the energy to think about it, he could have thumped his best friend to the ground for even _suggesting_ that he'd been anything less than professional. Perhaps the fact that he _hadn't_ reacted like someone had lit his fuse was why Athena had refused to allow him to leave HQ until he attended a mandatory counselling session.

Peter had brought up George, and the pier, and that had led to discussing Chris, and Shannon. He refused to concede that he might have been emotionally compromised but he wasn't deaf or blind to the overlap between his story and George's.

And now he was drained, and alone, and his hands were shaking. His personal phone had a series of texts from Abuela that she'd keep Christopher overnight and into tomorrow if he needed the sleep. It was too late to text her back but it wasn't the first time he'd been involved in something that would've made the news. He appreciated her calm adaptation to his situations and erratic calls and extended hours more than he could have ever explained to her.

So, ordinarily he'd go home but now that he didn't have to…

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub away the exhaustion and the devastation and everything else that left him feeling both shaken and numb. He didn't want to go home and stare at the empty ceiling. He didn't want to go home and stare at the clock ticking away minutes. He didn't want to go home and face the silence of a house without Christopher's breathing across the hall.

The Mark against his shoulder tugged at his awareness. He was almost growing used to the feeling that it was reminding him of what he really wanted but kept avoiding, out of fear, or terror, or anxiety, or insecurity. He'd clearly given parts of himself so willingly, _too_ willingly, to the kiss that had been almost six weeks ago, and then he'd been freaking out ever since.

"Fuck, Diaz," he muttered, pulling at the ends of his hair before turning the key and putting the car in drive. He was a disaster, and a mess, and it didn't take him as long as he'd hoped to park outside the bar he'd resisted for weeks and weeks. His throat tightened when he saw the bike propped close to one wall, having a feeling that if he truly paid more attention to the Mark, it would probably lead him anywhere through the city to Buck. That was how they worked sometimes, like Fate was trying to reel two broken parts together. And Eddie was nothing if not broken.

There were still lights inside, he could hear the low thump of music, the _EVERACES_ neon sign glowed above the door, and now that he was this close, his skin itched like ants were crawling down his spine. He didn't want to face the twisting agony that he'd had at Athena's barbecue, having read enough in the interim to know that was because he was trying to avoid the possibilities that Fate had clearly Marked him with. It was impossible to avoid Buck when things beyond his control would ensure they kept meeting. Maybe that was why all – _almost_ all, Eddie corrected – of Buck's marks were pale. Somehow, Buck knew how to protect his heart.

Eddie wasn't so good at protecting it but it wasn't like he was littered in red and black Marks either.

With a sigh, he pulled the hoodie over his head and locked the car behind him. The bouncer checked his ID, flashed a torch in his face, and then waved him inside.

It was quieter than last time, probably because of the later hour. There were a handful of people by the bar, a few others on couches scattered around low tables. Eddie didn't even know what he was _doing_ there, he just…knew he didn't want to go home.

He found a seat in a corner booth, peering past the hood to spy on Buck moving around the bar. The coloured lights on the ceiling made his pale skin glow, his biceps barely contained by a pale grey shirt that was probably a size too small just to add to the effect. He didn't seem affected by the distance between them, though Eddie knew those blue eyes had watched him a few times during the course of the barbecue and he'd studiously avoided looking over. When it had reached a point that it was acceptable enough to leave, he'd kept away from Buck even though Chris had asked if they were going to say goodbye to the 'drawing man'.

And in the interim… In the interim, Eddie had done his best to push thoughts of Buck out of his mind, to stop checking the Mark that would never change colour, to remember what he'd had with Shannon and honour it. Chris had been confused at the photo's appearance on the bedside table rather than the dresser and Eddie hadn't been able to offer an explanation that his son would understand.

But now…

"Can I get you something?"

He looked up from where his hands were folded together on top of the table, thumbnails digging into flesh. There were crescent indents when he forced himself to stop but he didn't feel the sting. He didn't feel anything. A girl was looking at him expectantly, fake smile fixed and too bright.

"Whatever IPA beer you have in a bottle," he said, knowing he had more than 48 hours to clear it from his system. One benefit of a longer, shitty call – a longer off-time demanded of the team so they could gather themselves again.

The girl nodded and flounced away and Eddie returned his attention to his hands. They weren't shaking anymore, not like he'd expected, but sometimes he was reminded of Lady Macbeth and her " _Out, damned spot, out_!" and he could understand the madness she must have felt, haunted by the lives she had been responsible for encouraging Macbeth to take. It was different for Eddie – he'd pulled triggers, he'd thrown knives – but the feeling that your hands were tainted in blood and misery and death?

He could understand that feeling.

"Hey, here you go." He twitched more than he would have liked at recognising Buck's voice, bowing his head a little more like it could help conceal his features. "Do you want something to eat to go with that?"

He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten – probably breakfast, before the shift had started – but the thought of food… He shook his head and heard the quiet hum of acknowledgement, followed by retreating steps as Buck returned to the bar.

When he'd been stuck in the debriefs, all he could think about was getting so drunk that he blacked out and the images of George's falling body were blotted from his memory. Now that he had the chance to actually _drink_ something, he realised he didn't want that either. The beer was too bitter and bubbly and cold, and it wasn't like it was the fault of Buck or the girl for his vague request but it wasn't what he wanted. Which made him realise he still didn't know _what_ he wanted because everything from the day just kept turning over and over in his head, from innumerable angles like he was meant to re-analyse every step of the beat cops, and his team, and the words he'd spoken to try to calm George's agitation or despair, to look for what could have been done differently. It didn't matter that he'd already picked everything apart in the debriefs – that that was the very _role_ of the debriefs, so he didn't think like this and could go home with a clearer conscience. It didn't matter that George had insisted he had no one, and so there would presumably be no one to grieve for him. These were the parts he couldn't silence. These were the parts that had made Athena demand he do something to unwind after rough shifts.

Maybe that was why he'd ended up near Buck. He might not be able to draw him but he was associated with some aspect of the unwinding process.

He scratched the label on the bottle into ribbons with his nail, more interested in destroying it than drinking it. Maybe that's what it was that he wanted, breaking everything around him like somehow it could help him make sense of the day. He no longer knew. He was no longer certain. Everything felt like it had been ripped inside out and he wasn't even trying to hold it together anymore. His fragile attempts at control were shredded.

"Do you want another- Hm. You haven't had much of that. Not enjoying it?"

Terrified and tired though he was, he lifted his eyes to meet Buck's and watched the moment recognition flashed across his face when enough light caught across the shadows.

"Well. You look like shit."

He swallowed dryly. If he looked anything like he felt, then 'shit' was probably an understatement. "Difficult day."

"Yeah?" And then he saw when the penny _truly_ dropped because Buck's eyes widened, his mouth parting a little. "Wait, you were part of-?"

Eddie nodded, gaze sliding back to the grip his hands had around the bottle. It was different now, he thought. Now that Buck knew what he did. Now that Buck could have an awareness of what he did when a call went bad and it hit the trending topics, or the live newsfeeds. Now that Buck could put together the pieces that quickly to understand why he wanted to be a shadow.

"Shit." Buck slid into the opposite booth, hands reaching towards Eddie's before they froze partway along the table, perhaps realising that they might not be welcomed. "And you, uh…you came here? After- After that?"

Eddie shrugged, the lights catching on the crescents in the back of his hands when he set his palms against the timber. "I didn't want to go home…" He could only hope that his quiet words spoke volumes to Buck, that the meanings he couldn't say were clear enough.

"Okay." One of Buck's hands finally covered his and even though Eddie felt like a shell, the warmth of Buck's fingers seeped into his skin. For a too-brief minute, some of the sickening churning in his stomach eased and the aching pain across his shoulders lessened. "We don't close til after 1:30. Are you gonna stay til then?"

He couldn't bring himself to turn his hand and fold it inside Buck's, but he didn't pull away from it either. He managed to meet Buck's eyes, wavering with the fear of expressing his needs when he'd been flat-out avoiding Buck since the kiss weeks ago. He knew it was so late that he didn't have a lot of options. He'd ignored Walker and Nicholls' attempt to engage him in conversation and he'd told Athena that Polson should have insubordination for defying a direct order recorded in her file. He didn't know where else to go and that was why he was here.

"What?" The pressure of Buck's hand squeezed against him, an eyebrow raised. Perhaps his indecision was obvious.

"I- I can stay," he relented, barely a whisper as he traced the lines of a face he knew so well.

Buck held his gaze for a long minute before squeezing his hand again and nodding. "If you change your mind-"

He loosened his hand to flip it, capturing Buck's fingers within his own before he could think too much about it. "I won't," he promised, because he'd come here for a reason. He didn't know why, he didn't know what he expected Buck to do, but Fate wanted him here and right now, Eddie needed to feel like he had someone he could reach out to because otherwise he'd spend the 48-hours off-shift making a lot of terrible decisions. The rest of the team had all scattered before he was finished with the counselling session and he'd felt terribly alone and unmoored when swapping into jeans and a t-shirt that felt like they belonged to someone else, some other version of him, after the day he'd had.

Buck watched him, something assessing behind his eyes. "Okay," he said again, like it was that easy to let go of how much of an asshole Eddie had been. Maybe it was when you weren't Marked. Maybe it was when you were almost entirely covered with pale pink Marks. "I'll make sure we're ready to go as soon as we close, alright?"

Eddie nodded and even though he felt chilled by the loss of Buck's hand, he understood the guy was still on the clock, still had a little under an hour until he'd be able to leave, and Eddie couldn't cling to him forever. Buck gave a somewhat nervous, somewhat encouraging smile and slid from the booth.

Eddie shifted further into the corner of the booth, shielding himself in the darkness and the hoodie. At some point, he'd withdrawn his phone and started thumbing through social media posts of what his sisters were doing, or what his mother had reposted, or what the latest fashion trends were simply to find ways to pass the time and keep his mind occupied. The distraction hadn't worked for long before he'd started trying some of the games Chris had downloaded to his phone for longer car trips, but they were too cheesy and childish and his interest waned. He almost thought of asking Buck for a pencil and paper but he didn't want to expose how poor his drawing skills were.

Minutes felt like hours before he felt Buck slide in next to him, shoulders and thighs brushing.

"All done," Buck murmured with a hand settling in the middle of Eddie's back, gentle but reassuring. "You don't want to go home. Do you know what you _do_ want?"

Eddie switched off the screen and placed the phone on the table, gaze darting around the empty and silent bar that looked different with dimmed white lights now that the rainbow fairy lights had been extinguished.

"I'm not sure I'd be _here_ if I knew the answer to that," he admitted, barely able to look at Buck when he felt the hand shift a little against him. "I don't- I don't mean I regret being here, just that… I felt so…lost and… I didn't even know if you'd be working here tonight but I- I knew all my family would be asleep and the team had already gone and I was…" His breathing hitched, eyes blinking closed while he tried to steady himself. "I was alone and I- I didn't want to be."

Buck's hand tugged the back of his hoodie until the fabric slipped away, exposing him more than he would have liked, and light knuckles brushed against his cheek and under his jaw in an affectionate gesture that tore at his heart. "I'm here, Eddie."

"I know," he whispered, fighting against the hysteria that threatened to engulf him if he let it. "And I don't deserve it. Not after I- Not after I've treated you so badly."

"Eddie-"

"No." He shook his head, eyes cracking open to stare at Buck even though it hurt. "I was- I got scared and I was selfish. I'm making demands of you by showing up like this that aren't fair to you and-"

"Eddie." Buck's index finger pressed against his lips, firm enough to silence him. "You haven't demanded anything of me so far but the fact that you're _here_ after _that_ sort of a day? I've sat with Maddie after she's had a day of rough calls and held her, and I've seen Chim have difficult shifts and fold silently into her arms. You're allowed to reach out so that you don't go mad thinking about it. I'm not going to hold it against you that you got scared of being alone, alright?"

And that was…so much better than he deserved. So different to Shannon, who always needed him to be stronger and hold it together because sometimes she was so fragile for reasons she never talked about. He'd stayed away from Shannon on deployment when he was scared, and then she'd left with her own fears and he'd held it against her all the way up until she died. In some ways, he still _was_ holding it against her.

And Buck just…accepted him so effortlessly.

He didn't deserve it.

But he nodded once anyway.

He tilted towards Buck and arms circled his shoulders, a cheek brushing against his hair, as Eddie sought out a desperately needed hug. When had he last truly hugged someone that wasn't a family member? Maybe when he'd broken down in the locker room last August. Almost a year ago.

He shuddered away from the memories. Buck must've misunderstood, soothing a hand down his back and pressing a kiss to his hair. "I've got you," Buck mumbled, and Eddie hadn't even realised how much his fingers had twisted into the fabric of Buck's shirt until that moment. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm here and I've got you."

He held on until some of the jumping heartbeat in his chest slowed and his palms spread across the indents of muscle and bone of Buck's back rather than being coiled into fists. He exhaled without it shaking too badly, uncovering his face from where he'd tucked it into Buck's neck.

"Thank you," he said, a gentle sort of warmth seeping beneath his skin and reducing some of the chill that had been infused in his bones the rest of his shift. He'd felt so useless as Athena benched him and put Walker in charge for any subsequent calls, stuck at HQ and wanting to tear out his hair in frustration and scream about the injustices of the universe.

Buck kissed the top of his forehead, fingers skating over his temple and around the back of his ear towards his jaw. "Any time."

Eddie wasn't sure if that was entirely true but he wasn't going to question it. Not now. Not when red strings were lifting him like a puppet until his eyes caught Buck's. He was scared, might always be scared of how Fate wove its messy hands through the important details of his life, but he wasn't known for hesitation. In his line of work, hesitating was the difference between life or death. As he'd well been reminded of today.

"Can I kiss you?"

Instead of answering, Buck closed the gap for him. There was a hand pressing against his jaw, raising his head, and he gripped tighter at whatever part of Buck's shoulder or shirt he was touching when lips sealed over his and ended coherent thought patterns. He shivered when Buck's tongue licked into his mouth, pressing closer when need seemed to overtake anxiety, twisting in Buck's embrace so that he could return the kiss with his own sort of fervour.

He was strung out far too quickly by a simple kiss when Buck pulled away, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth when his eyes scanned and, perhaps, appraised him.

"You don't want to be home alone," Buck said slowly, thumb brushing across Eddie's cheekbone as he gazed into Eddie's eyes. "Do you want to come home with me?"

And Eddie was, for lack of a better word, spellbound. It had been _so long_ and whether he'd been emotionally compromised or not by the call to the pier, he didn't have any interest in trying to mount a resistance, didn't bother worrying about implications or ramifications. Everything within him wanted to fold around Buck, wanted to cling to him for a few hours until everything else tangling through his brain fell away.

So he nodded, stealing another kiss that Buck seemed content to return, before hands closed around his and pulled him out of the booth to his feet.

"C'mon," Buck said, hand leading him out of the bar. He switched off the lights and tugged keys from his pocket with his free hand, shutting and locking the door which left them on the top step outside, on a quiet street in the city in the early hours of the morning. "Ride with me?"

Eddie eyed the bike with trepidation, imagining exactly how Abuela would curse him out six ways to next year if she knew what he'd done. But…he didn't want to drive either. He didn't want to start freaking out again, overthinking everything until he diverted and went home. The thought of separating from Buck for even a moment, letting that invasion of noise return to his skull… He knew he didn't want that.

"You won't ride like a lunatic, will you?"

Buck laughed, tugging him towards the motorcycle. "You've met my sister and I've met your son. You reckon they wouldn't kill us if I did something like that?"

"Fair point," Eddie conceded, taking the offered helmet and watching as Buck unfolded the leather jacket from the small compartment at the back of the bike. "I don't think I've been on a motorcycle since my cousins got dirt bikes for Christmas when I was a teenager, back in El Paso."

Buck's eyebrows quirked as he zipped his jacket shut and Eddie fiddled with the straps of the helmet so that he didn't press unbidden fingers against the supple leather. "Texas boy?"

He hummed. "Born and raised til I moved out here with Chris a few years ago."

Buck took the helmet back and lifted it onto Eddie's head, clipping buckles together and raising the visor. "Should I start calling you 'Cowboy'?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, because he'd heard that one enough times when he first arrived at SWAT. "If that's your attempt at 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy' then-"

Buck flashed him a devilish smirk that stalled his brain. "I like the way you think."

He was still restarting some of the critical components of thoughts and words and strings of sentences when Buck guided him towards the bike, a leg swinging over the seat first and then Eddie got the idea of where he needed to sit behind him. He felt shy as he worked out how to sit across the bike, his chest pressed against Buck's back, able to feel every shift in his muscles through the jacket.

Hands found his, winding them around Buck's waist until they were folded together at his stomach, and he wondered if Buck could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest. There was a jangle of keys and then the bike roared to life, a vibrating hum beneath him that was as unfamiliar as it was exhilarating.

"Don't let go," Buck called over his shoulder as he slowly walked the bike towards the street and Eddie instinctively held on tighter, like Chris did when he was being carried up or down stairs, because this required an incredible amount of trust and balance and-

And then they were moving and it felt fast, but it couldn't have been, and the world was a dazzling array of colour and light and air passing the visor to skim over his face. He clung to Buck, feeling the clench of stomach muscles against his palms whenever they turned a corner or changed lanes and thought maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Buck didn't work out. Maybe he just rode his bike a lot through the city at night.

A couple of times when they were stopped at empty red lights, his hands slipped lower on Buck's stomach, fingers lingering close to the line of his jeans. He might not hesitate in his life but he wasn't usually so bold either. Buck's spine had stiffened and straightened beneath his chest, a hand swatting at his somewhat-aimless, somewhat-deliberate roaming.

"You keep doing that and we'll crash," Buck said after the second time, hips shifting against the bike in an obvious display of interest. Eddie almost wondered how far he could push the other man but decided against it. Crashing wasn't a good idea.

They crossed through the city towards the south-east and Eddie stopped paying attention to exactly where they were, trying to turn off the cop-part of his brain that was always looking for danger and threats and potential accidents. By the time Buck was rolling the bike into the underground lot of an apartment building, Eddie only had a vague idea of their location and he was okay with that. He trusted Buck, he had a Mark because of Buck, and he felt calmer holding onto Buck than he had in a couple of months.

His eyes swept the empty lot when Buck turned the engine off. Now that the risk of crashing didn't seem to be so high, he deliberately moved one hand lower again. Buck shuddered, his head falling back far enough to rest on Eddie's shoulder and exposing how flushed his cheeks were.

"We don't have to do anything like _that_ ," Buck mumbled, eyes half-closing and lips parting around a soft whine when Eddie traced his fingers over the half-hard length he could already feel within the denim. He licked his lips behind the helmet, eyeing the way Buck's chest rose and fell.

"Don't we?" He withdrew his hand and Buck exhaled shakily. He wasn't sure if he was teasing or if he'd just misread Buck's suggestion to go together, but then he thought about the kiss that Buck had given him at the bar and…he realised he was confusing himself. "You had something _else_ in mind?"

"I could just hold you," Buck said with a shrug. Eddie shifted a little behind him and Buck's eyes opened, catching some part of his expression through the gap in the helmet. "Okay, yeah, stupid suggestion. I like your idea better."

Eddie snorted, forcing his hands off Buck's body so they could get off the bike and Buck could help him with the helmet. Once it was gone, once Buck had stowed it in the compartment at the back of the bike, Eddie was tugging Buck towards him and kissing him with a needy sort of confidence he hadn't felt in a long time. After being afraid of Buck for so long, afraid of the Mark and everything that it meant, he knew he was giving in to the pull between them and he'd deal with the fallout of his lonely pair of Marks and Buck's many pink later.

"Yeah, okay, definitely ditching the 'holding you' part of the idea until afterwards," Buck confirmed in a rapid scramble of speech when Eddie made half a step backwards to give Buck the chance to collect himself, enjoying the dazed look in his blue eyes a little too much. A large hand slid into his own, pulling him towards the elevator. Buck barely spared it a glance after he'd pressed the button, pushing Eddie against the wall beside it and kissing him so fiercely Eddie was pretty sure his brain blanked for a few seconds

"Are we even going to make it to your place?" he joked when the elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open, stumbling slightly when Buck practically pushed him inside and grinned at him with something like giddy excitement and outright desire. It was a heady mix, one that created butterflies in his stomach when he realised just how far he was willing to go, just how much he was willing to do with a man that was still practically a stranger.

"It's not _that_ far," Buck pointed out as he jabbed the _4_ on the control panel with one hand, fingers tight among Eddie's with the other.

The Mark on his shoulder seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat and it was disorienting to feel it so clearly in two different locations, somehow scattering an almost-disjointed rhythm across his skin. He leaned into Buck, lips pressing a kiss to his shoulder through the leather, attempting to settle some of the nerves that fluttered to life inside him.

"Hey." Buck cupped his cheek with his spare hand, lifting his face as blue eyes searched over his face again like he knew exactly what was knotting Eddie's stomach and thoughts. "I meant it, you know. We _don't_ have to do anything you don't want to do. After the day you've had, you're running the show with what you want, alright?"

"It's just…been a while," he said, eyes flicking towards the slowly increasing numbers on the elevator screen.

"Yeah?" Buck's thumb brushed over his lips, tugging free the lower one that Eddie hadn't even realised he'd tugged between his teeth in an obvious display of his uncertainty. "All the more reason for you to be careful and look after yourself, Eddie. I'm not going to be offended if you change your mind here and just want a drink and a couch to crash on."

And Buck… There was something so calm and gentle and reassuring about his words, how generous he'd been to allow Eddie the chance to stay with him tonight – or in the early hours of the morning – and how Eddie didn't feel any sort of pressure to make a decision one way or the other. He appreciated it because even though his blood felt warm with want, it meant that Buck somehow cared as well.

He tilted his head into Buck's hand, placing a soft kiss on the centre of his palm to convey his thanks. "Are you like this with everyone or just the ones you've known have had shitty days?"

Buck wrinkled his nose at the question, like he'd missed the teasing threaded among Eddie's tone. "Consent is important, Eddie," he said firmly, with a squeeze to his hand that almost seemed like a warning. "Rushing headlong into _anything_ with _anyone_ should be talked about _before_ you actually fall into bed with them just so there aren't any regrets later."

"Sorry, that was-" He blinked, gaze slipping to the floor when he wondered how many times Buck had given that same little speech to so many people which had led to so many pink Marks. The warmth in him had been replaced by a small bite of cold, a hint of shame that somehow he'd been insensitive to Buck just trying to…to what? To look out for him making the right decision when he was almost certainly all mixed up from the day? "I didn't mean to- to offend you or anything, Buck."

"I'm not offended." Buck tapped his nose with his thumb, lifting his head and trying to catch his eyes again. "I just don't want you to do something you'll regret when you wake up in the morning and then I don't see you again for two months. It hurt enough the first time."

And Eddie… Eddie didn't have a response to that. It was a fair statement, even though it felt like it skewered straight through him and pinned him to the wall like a mounted butterfly.

The elevator dinged, doors whooshing open as if to mock him that everything he could've wanted was so close if he just stopped overthinking everything. Maybe that was Fate's way of laughing at him again.

Buck stared at him, his blue eyes lacking judgement as his thumb stroked a smooth line across his cheek. "What do you want, Eddie?"

He stared back, almost certainly visibly hesitating, trying to work out if this was happening too fast. He'd first laid eyes on Buck five months ago but there was still _so_ _much_ he didn't know. Once he'd met Buck's sister at Athena's party, it was clear Buck was a nickname for his last name because _surely_ no parent would scar their kid with the name Buck Buckley. Which meant he was at Buck's apartment and didn't even know his first name, for God's sake. Yet he was here, and his truck was halfway across the city, and Buck could be a serial murderer for all he knew. His team might find his dismembered body parts all over the city over the next few weeks.

The red Mark on his shoulder made it clear he was meant to get to know Buck better though, or at least that there was a connection that was going to keep drawing them close. How else would he have expected a complicated series of connections through his work to Buck? And the thought of pulling away now was almost painful. It was like the invisible strings wound around him were so tight that he wasn't sure how he could possibly break them now. He just wanted to sink into them, sink into Buck, and if he didn't know Buck's first name then maybe he could also find a way to forget his own.

More than anything, he knew he could, and he had to, trust his gut. As a leader in SWAT, he'd like to think his gut was pretty good at telling him if someone didn't seem like a good person. Hadn't he done that today with George? Hadn't he made an assessment that he wasn't a threat? So someone like Buck? He seemed like his heart was made of gold even if he didn't share it with many people.

"I want you," he whispered, long after the elevator doors had closed although the car hadn't moved, tracking the eyes in front of him and giving in to the instinct that Buck was okay, and Buck was good, and Buck didn't have some sort of underground dungeon where his limbs would be chopped into tiny pieces.

Buck nodded, once, and then pressed the _4_ again. The doors opened and Buck led him through the silent corridor of an apartment block at rest, at odds with how loud Eddie thought his heart was beating. The keys appeared again, a lock opening, and then they were jangling against the floor because once they were through the door, Eddie was far more interested in pressing Buck against the timber and kissing him than figuring out lights, or apartment layouts, or asking more questions beyond, "Bed?"

"Upstairs," Buck mumbled, lights flaring as his hands finally caught on a switch by the door. Eddie kicked off his shoes and tugged at Buck's jacket until it lowered from his shoulders, reaching next for the buttons of his shirt while Buck hands slid under his hoodie to free the tucked t-shirt from his jeans.

"Can we-?"

Buck kissed his cheek, fingertips slipping away from his twitching abs. "Gladly. C'mon."

He followed Buck, wondering how far and how long he'd follow him for, and glancing around to make out that his apartment was nice, and it had a loft, and then he had a bed in front of him and not much else mattered except pulling the hoodie over his head and discarding it somewhere to the floor. He reached towards Buck, finishing the remaining buttons to rid the grey shirt from concealing a body he'd attempted to draw so many times, for so many hours.

In the low light that glowed from downstairs, it was harder to see all the pale pink Marks but they still seemed to glow, like they were imbued with a magic all of their own. Maybe they were. Eddie was familiar enough with the pink to know they meant a limited emotional tie, that the darker a Mark was on the range from pink to dark red meant Fate had created a stronger pull for the bearer. And these were…all so pale, like silvery inch-long scars decorating his arms and torso.

His fingertips grazed over them and he realised just how many there were when he stopped trying to count. He traced tattoos he'd spent hours sketching in class and at home. Being so close gave him a new perspective of how delicate the curve of the tattoo was against Buck's shoulder – near the black Mark that made Buck shudder when he ghosted too close to it – and how much thicker the black lines were of the tattoo on his right pec.

"They aren't all hook-ups," Buck said unexpectedly, his voice quiet as Eddie continued to stand and examine a chest he knew so well and yet felt like he didn't know at all now that he had his hands on it. "I- I have a habit of attaching to people quickly, too easily, and Fate is… When I find a new one, it's always so clear that it's not meant to last, that there's nothing behind it, and I drift again until I meet someone else and it- it happens again."

Eddie wasn't sure if it was his heart or his shoulder which ached more at the vulnerability in Buck's tone and the wariness in his eyes. He worried what it meant if Buck attached too quickly when Eddie had such a dark red Mark on his skin, if he'd join the legions of pale pink at some point and Buck would vanish from his life. He wondered if his Mark would stay red, or maybe it would eventually blacken like Shannon's once had. Fate taunting them with how opposite they were with their hearts and feelings, a cruel reminder that they had no real power over anything.

"I- I'm scared," Buck admitted, and Eddie looked up at him in confusion, afraid maybe he'd done something wrong. He stilled his hands but Buck quickly shook his head. "No, not you, Eddie. I- I'm just- I'm scared that…that maybe this is all there is? That Fate is- That I'm not meant to…to find anyone else, that I'll…be alone and this is the best I'll ever have, more and more Marks until I'm more pale pink than white."

Eddie thumbed over the line of the black Mark, watching the way Buck's eyes shuttered. "This? I don't know the story behind this but you and I both know this was more important and it meant something and that your fears aren't true."

Buck's breathing hitched. "It was already such a surprise when I woke up and it was red and- and I had feelings for someone I knew I couldn't have. And then she- She _did_ but it was for such a brief time before it burned all the way through and it was… It almost felt like a joke, like I _could_ , like someone _else_ could, somehow, but…but I still wasn't enough."

Eddie could remember the slump in Buck's shoulders and the distant look in his eyes the week that he'd peeled his shirt away and exposed the blackened Mark. He could remember how much he'd wanted to take that pain away, just as he did now. "I believe you're enough, Buck."

"But what if-"

"There are worse things," he said, with a slight shake of his head, pulling his hands away. At first, Buck looked afraid that he was pulling away completely, but he only put enough distance between them to unbuckle the strap of his watch. He glanced toward the ceiling as he exposed the scar on the inside of his wrist that he tried to hide as much as possible. Buck saw it, a sparkle of tears filling his eyes when he recognised the implications. "There are worse things than all of your pink, Buck. It might scare you to feel alone, and it might frighten you that Fate is messing with you, but I can handle this," he said, lowering his gaze and pressing his right palm to Buck's bare chest, "if you can handle that," he said with a nod towards his exposed wrist. He knew he could only make that promise because he had a red Mark seared across his shoulder, but it was enough. It was a promise he could definitely make.

Buck's hand wavered as his caught Eddie's arm, throat bobbing around a swallow. Eddie tried not to tremble too noticeably at the light touch of Buck's fingers sweeping reverently over the flesh that he'd barely shared with anyone in almost a year.

"Chris' mom?" Buck asked, and Eddie was surprised Buck remembered the name of his kid, and could connect ideas so quickly.

He released a shaky breath and nodded. "Almost 11 months ago," he whispered and Buck frowned between the Mark and Eddie's eyes, the calculation in his expression obvious. "The tsunami. She- She didn't-"

"She was there?" Buck said in dawning realisation, lifting his hand until his lips pressed against the scar. The feelings that small but powerful gesture unleashed in Eddie's chest… He couldn't stop the single tear sliding down his cheek if he'd wanted to. There was so much tenderness that it was overwhelming to the frayed, raw ends of his nerves.

"She- She was at the pier with Chris." His breathing caught when Buck kissed the scar again and then held his hand, helping to ground him in something that wasn't a tumultuous mess of feelings. He'd already talked about this in the counselling session earlier, but everything with George had torn him to shreds, left him feeling like his chest had been ripped open and he was leaving a trail of blood everywhere he went today. "Chris made it but she… She didn't."

"Oh God, Eddie," Buck exhaled, squeezing his hand tightly. "I'm so sorry. And then today-"

"Y-Yeah…" He felt like his throat was closing up on him, fresh tears bubbling over the edge of his control. Everything George had said was far too close to the reality he'd struggled with for almost a year. That George hadn't found Penny definitely hit too close to home, and he would never concede that Walker knew him well enough to know he'd had to have been hurting with George but…George hadn't been a threat, he was sure of it. "We- We were separated before that though. It- It turned black while I was deployed and I- I knew it was over before I came home."

Buck drew him into a hug, arm circling his shoulders and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. It helped slow some of the ragged breaths escaping his lungs as wave after wave of hurt crashed into him. "Deployed? Army?"

He nodded, resisting falling through that particular doorway in favour of brushing his free hand down Buck's Marked arm. There were only so many things he wanted to discuss tonight after pulling himself apart in the therapy session. He'd come to Buck to forget, not to share his pain with someone else.

"I just… I needed you to know there are worse things than how you look to me." He bit his lip, index finger skimming along Buck's collarbone and down towards his sternum. "And I- Even if you end up with another pale Mark because of me, that doesn't mean you have to just give up and move on. It took me a while to figure out how I felt about Shannon. Fate is…fickle like that."

"You don't have to be so nice about them," Buck mumbled, eyes averted when Eddie peeked at him.

Eddie began to realise that he thought Buck was okay with all the Marks, that he willingly exposed them in classes or that he revealed with a perverse sort of pride while working at the bar. Except the way Buck spoke, the way he looked, indicated that they may actually be a source of deep shame and insecurity. He knew the stories of people who went mad with too many Marks, whose lives were so lonely and unfulfilled that they became depressed. Maybe his feelings were like Eddie with his scar, and yet the opposite because Eddie was lonely and unfulfilled because he'd never felt enough for anyone to have many Marks.

"They're a part of you, Buck," he said simply, shifting so he could place both palms on the Marked chest, feeling the heartbeat leaping against his skin. It beat faster than Eddie's heart, slightly erratic, and it occurred to him that Buck was very good at zoning out during class but maybe this anxiety thrumming through him was always there. Maybe exposing his skin to the eyes of others was terrifying. He could remember the collective intake of breath when Buck had first removed his shirt. "They're a part of you, but they're not _all_ you are," he continued and Buck met his eyes, glittering with barely suppressed tears. "Okay?"

Buck nodded, throat bobbing again before he leaned in and pressed their lips together. This kiss was slower, more deliberate, one that made Eddie ache a little because the feverish desperation from before was gone. It had been replaced by a slow heat that spread from his shoulder to his heart to his belly and all the way to his fingertips and his toes. It coiled deep within him, a satisfied sort of hum that made him feel calm and safe again.

Buck tugged at the hem of his t-shirt and he lifted his arms, breaking the kiss for the briefest of moments so that the fabric could be removed, before pressing in again. He felt Buck's hands close at his waist, nails scraping over sensitive skin. Flares of arousal erupted across his shoulders as he groaned against Buck's mouth.

"I take back what I said," Buck murmured, nose skimming along Eddie's jaw and kissing down the side of his neck.

Eddie was trying to think through everything Buck had ever said but it was really, really hard when Buck was playing him like an expert pianist and he eventually gave up trying to remember. "What're you taking back?"

Buck laughed, eyes shimmering with amusement which was a welcome contrast to the tears of before. "I'm not going to draw you. I couldn't do you justice."

He snorted, kissing the mark above Buck's brow when it passed in front of him as that sinful mouth moved across his throat to kiss the other side of his neck which was absolutely short-circuiting critical parts of his brain. "Now- Now you know how I feel about you."

Buck shook his head, taking half a step back and scanning over Eddie's torso. The desire in his dark eyes was unmistakable and Eddie felt parts of his body heat that had been dormant for a very long time. "You pin people down with this body."

One corner of Eddie's lips curled when he realised what it was that was digging under Buck's skin, and just how much he could manhandle Buck which wasn't something he was used to but could play into. "I could take you."

Buck's eyebrow rose, a mirroring smirk lifting his lips. "You think so?"

Eddie clamped one hand around Buck's wrist and pushed him backwards, vaguely delighted in the yelp that slipped free when Buck hit the mattress. "Oh, I know so," he assured, clambering over Buck and pinning his hips with the bracket of his legs. "I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't keep you down."

Buck hummed, eyes skipping over Eddie's torso and he tried very hard not to preen because he knew he looked good. He had to be at the top of his game to remain in SWAT. It was his distraction that he'd blame for how Buck managed to press his hips up and flip him with surprising ease on the mattress. It was Eddie's turn to yelp, flailing for a grip on Buck's shoulder as his back hit the fabric and he stared up at blue eyes shining in amusement.

"Guess you're not very good at your job then," Buck teased, and Eddie was almost tempted to call him out on the game just to end it but...they'd always been like that, hadn't they? Simultaneously cats and mice, the snake and the snake charmer. It had been part of the thrill before they'd first kissed, part of how Buck's flirtatious words had made him flare with excitement and fear at Athena's party. He was out of practise and that left him tongue-tied with the way Buck looked at him.

"Maybe- M-Maybe I let you have that one," he conceded, his heart thumping harder against his ribcage.

Buck grinned, sitting back against Eddie's thighs and pressing fingers into the grooves of his abdomen, making his stomach clench when nails scratched against him. "Or maybe you're proving my point that the LAPD rely on outdated subduing tactics which can be too easily countered."

Eddie blinked in surprise at Buck's words, temporarily distracted from his thoughts by the touching that skimmed lower to the button of his jeans before he remembered what Buck had said and tried to focus again. "You know our tactics?"

Buck shrugged, popping the button and then lowering the zip slowly enough that Eddie would swear he felt every one of the teeth release in a torturously slow drag. "Another of my jobs."

He stiffened, and not in the good way. Buck seemed to catch onto the invasion of tension in his muscles and rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, do I strike you as someone you need to put in cuffs?"

Eddie weighed his options about how to respond, lips pursing briefly as he stared at Buck. "Depends on if that's something you're into."

Buck snorted, shaking his head even as his lips lifted again into a grin. "You saw the opening and you took it. Well done." His hips shifted and Eddie inhaled sharply, fingers groping at the back of Buck's thighs up to his ass to encourage it to happen again. Buck hummed, seemingly in control of every action he did or didn't make. "Anyway, no, I'm not someone that will have an arrest warrant issued for some dastardly crime that means you have to blow open my door, Sargent."

Somewhere amidst all the teasing, Eddie had almost forgotten he'd asked a question. The coy way that Buck used his title, the way he made a joke about Eddie's job… He felt a small ripple of fear at how easily distracted he was from learning an answer that could change everything between them before it had even begun. "So you…?"

"Washed out of the SEALs," Buck murmured, leaning forward to kiss the side of his neck again, and then the hollow of his throat, and then his collarbone. "Picked up bartending again for the cash but by day, I work out of a gym as a personal trainer. After Maddie was hurt, I started teaching more self-defence classes. I've become familiar with all the typical training manuals so I've figured out ways to destroy it."

There were…a whole lot of things in that explanation that Eddie wanted to question and learn more about, but right now was wholly not the time.

Buck might've known the ways to break the manual but that didn't mean Eddie hadn't had to adapt it to suit his own purposes in the army or during a call, discarding any of the formal training because a situation demanded it. That was the very point of being in a SWAT team. That was the point of being a _leader_ of one of the teams. That was the part that Tandy always seemed to struggle with the most, because he was adept with complex equipment but poor in responding with his body.

Eddie lifted a hand under Buck's arm, crooked his knee, twisted, and had Buck beneath him again in a matter of split-seconds. Buck looked up at him, a dazed sort of expression in his blue eyes.

"Okay, that was hot," Buck conceded, pink tongue darting out across red lips, hands tight at his waist. Eddie smiled, lowering to kiss those tempting lips, nipping at the plump flesh that had dragged across his neck, rolling their hips together now that _he_ had the freedom to move and take what he wanted.

He revelled in how expressive Buck was, how each muffled gasp and whimper told him what Buck liked and what he _really_ liked. He hadn't been with a man since early in his enlistment, which felt like a lifetime ago, but he'd never forgotten how it was easier to figure out what to do because in so many ways, it was like shifting against a mirror, guessing that what felt good to you would feel good to the other person. Shannon had always been different, more complicated to understand when she wasn't so open to communicating her likes and dislikes.

But Buck…

Buck was _delightful_ in how much noise he made. There was an increasingly pronounced vein in his neck, beads of sweat across his brow that tousled his hair. His hips twitched and writhed to match Eddie's slow rhythm even as he brokenly pleaded for more.

Eddie leaned in to lick at Buck's neck, at the ridge of vein that he could feel pulsing against his tongue. "What are you asking for?" he mumbled against the skin, petting a hand through the curling blond hair and drawing eyes towards him with pupils that were so blown they were practically black.

" _Anything_ ," Buck insisted, squirming against him for more friction and Eddie couldn't deny it was exceedingly obvious that they were both incredibly hard. "I- Fuck, I- I haven't let anyone top me in so long but I- I want you to- to-"

Eddie kissed him with that fierce desperation he'd had before, a hand beneath Buck's chin tipping his head back so that he could lick into his mouth. Buck moaned like a fucking unravelled masterpiece already and Eddie wasn't sure how he was meant to survive going further.

"Please- _Please_ -"

"Shh, querido, patience," he whispered against Buck's lips, unable to hide his smile at how dishevelled the man beneath him was. It was reassuring that even though he was filled with a lot of doubts after so long, Buck was very articulate about how much he was enjoying himself. "Where are-"

Buck flung a hand towards his bedside table, falling short by at least a foot, and Eddie couldn't conceal his snort at the frustrated huff that Buck made when his hand groped uselessly at the rumpled sheet. "That direction," he mumbled, almost growled, nose scrunching as he looked up at Eddie's amused face.

"That answers that," he said with an affectionate kiss to Buck's forehead, shifting so that he could reach and retrieve the bottle of lube and a foil square from the box in the drawer. He bit his lip when he settled back across Buck, taking in how his cheeks were as pink as the birthmark and his lips as red as the Mark on Eddie's shoulder. "It's- It's been a while for me too."

Buck met his eyes for a long moment before he nodded, skimming his hands down Eddie's cheeks, his neck, over his shoulders. It gave him a gentle rush of comforting warmth through his veins that what Buck had said in the elevator still seemed true now. "That's okay. Are we in a rush?"

Eddie's lips quirked as he glanced down at the obvious strain of Buck's jeans. "You tell me."

"Oh fuck, Eddie, don't start with me now," Buck grumbled, hands shifting from Eddie's skin to his pants before Eddie caught his fingers, pressing them above his head in a way that made his biceps strain. Eddie noticed another tattoo on the inside of his arm, one he hadn't noticed before in class, and roughly kissed that too.

"What did they say about patience?"

"Contrary to popular belief," Buck complained with clear sarcasm in his tone as Eddie loosened the button and zip of his jeans, "patience is _not_ a virtue in situations like this."

"So you're saying you're not virtuous?" he teased and Buck grunted at him, lifting his hips to aid the removal of his jeans and briefs and releasing something almost like a sigh of relief when they were flung somewhere to the floor. The long flush of Buck's exposed cock curved towards his stomach and he seemed utterly unashamed as he stared up at Eddie. And Eddie… He hoped this wasn't going to be a one-time thing because he'd really like to remember how to place his mouth against something so sensitive, or how to take it within him until he was falling apart at the edges of his sanity.

"I'm saying that it is _so much better_ to be naked than still trapped inside _that_ ," Buck muttered and Eddie kissed him again, using it as a direction from his nerves because it really _had_ been a long time. He remembered the mechanics of it all, remembered what was necessary, but Buck was…different to the hook-ups on base. Not just because of the Mark staining Eddie's shoulder, but because deeper down, he actually _meant_ something to Eddie as more than just a quick need to loosen some of the tension from his brain.

He was grateful, maybe, when Buck seemed willing to help him out. He crooked and lifted a leg, his hand finding the bottle of lube that Eddie had discarded so he could help Buck out of his pants. Eddie concentrated on his memories, and his limited confidence in his experiences with Shannon, and followed Buck's lead whenever he hissed or whimpered as he worked in one finger, and then two, and gradually three.

"I'm not- I'm not gonna break, Eddie," Buck said, eyes crinkled shut as his chest heaved with unsteady breaths.

"You said you hadn't done this in a while," he pointed out, certain he was probably moving slower than necessary but unwilling to inflict any additional pain if he could avoid it.

"No, I said I hadn't let _anyone_ top me in a- a w-while," Buck corrected, biting his bottom lip hard enough to turn it white when Eddie tentatively wrapped a hand around his untouched cock that had softened against his belly. "O-Oh f- _fuck_ …"

Eddie dragged his fingers out again, then twisted them in as he dragged his hand down. Buck moaned another curse, arching into his hand before sinking into his fingers. "And the difference is?"

Buck's eyes flicked open, the colour of the night sky and flecked with just as many distant galactic sparkles. "You- You do know what a dildo is, right?"

Eddie's brain shorted again and Buck laughed once before the three fingers curled within him stroked again, or when Eddie rubbed his thumb against the slit of his cock, and his amusement dissolved into a groan and a series of babbled pleas. He accepted Buck knew what he was doing, or asking for, or needed, so when Buck's fingers groped blindly for the foil square near his hip, Eddie took some sort of pity on him and collected it from where it had ended up beside his head.

He kicked off his jeans while Buck opened the packet, folding his legs around Eddie's waist and tangling fingers into his hair. It made their positioning tight for Eddie to roll on the condom and add more lube, but then he felt like he was probably prepared as much as he could. He leaned forward, kissing the swollen lips in front of him as the length of his cock rubbed between the crack of Buck's ass.

" _Please_ ," Buck whined against his mouth, thighs tightening at Eddie's waist. He shifted slightly, squeezed a hand between them to improve the angle, and then pressed into the tight breach. He pushed forward slowly, stealing the gasps and moans and curses as Buck made it clear when he could move or when he needed to slow, flames licking along his spine as sweat trickled across his forehead and shoulders.

There was a building strain in his arms to keep himself up and moving so carefully, his thighs tense as he waited for Buck to adjust. He rocked his hips in small, shallow thrusts that made his head spin as Buck trembled beneath him.

"You o-okay?" he said breathlessly, watching Buck nod as he ran a hand down his Marked chest and down to his belly. He wrapped his hand around the half-hard cock between them, steady and firm strokes that he timed with each roll forwards and back.

"M-More?" Buck panted once it was clear he'd begun to relax, once the tremors in his legs weren't from tension but from pleasure. Eddie ducked his head to press a kiss to his lips, smiling at the groan that rumbled in Buck's chest.

Eddie took that as enough of an acknowledgement that he could move, snapping his hips several times even though the sounds were wet and lewd. Buck hissed his appreciation, hands tight against Eddie's neck and shoulder, nails bringing pinpricks of pain across his skin. It helped keep him focused and at the same time helped him to stop thinking so much, stop trying to remain in control, stop worrying about everything that so often threatened to consume him as he drowned in Buck dissolving into little pieces beneath him. He followed some of Buck's lead, shifting in whatever way he thought would give him better leverage, better depth, better pace. It was clear Buck had abandoned his sanity because there weren't any protests, not when the backs of his thighs had to burn or his spine was bowed awkwardly. Just a litany of desperate noises and choked breaths that spurred him on.

Buck's hands clung to Eddie's shoulders when Eddie realised he needed to hold onto the mattress more to gain the leverage he wanted. Buck shuddered, his breath shortening, and there were more and more interrupted groans that escaped each of them as Eddie found a short, sharp rhythm which soon had Buck almost sobbing beneath him.

"Keep- _fuck_ \- k-keep g-going- I- I'm-"

Buck's head tipped back, exposing that throbbing vein again. His lungs seemed to seize around an inhale or an exhale when Eddie felt him start to disintegrate beneath him, heat splashing against his belly and Eddie's as he came untouched. The tight cinch of muscle around Eddie's cock made him grunt, determined to wait until after Buck finished unravelling, but he wasn't sure how successful he was as he came apart with a cry, lips pressing into Buck's neck as his hips jerked erratically through the waves that crashed over him, at the heat that flooded his veins, at the snapping in his belly that had him moaning every time he felt his cock give another twitch.

He wasn't sure how long he held Buck against him, unwilling to move even though he knew they were both oversensitive, even though the quivers in his muscles made him want to flop against the bed and sleep for a thousand years. He kept pressing close to kiss Buck's mouth, or his jaw, or his neck, his heartbeat remembering what a regular rhythm was long before his lungs. When Buck whimpered and gently pushed at his shoulder, he withdrew and lowered Buck's legs with a brief massage to his hamstrings. They had to hurt from being stretched painfully for too long, but it was difficult to focus on because he was so damn tired and Buck's smile was so lazily blissful.

And Buck… He was still a twitching, shivering mess amid the sheets, pale skin interspersed with pink Marks and a delightful flush. He flung a hand towards Eddie when he returned from disposing the condom, hand sliding around Eddie's neck and tongue licking into his mouth in a way that had Eddie forgetting how to breathe again. There were still smears all over Buck's stomach, and his cock was still dark and curved towards his belly, and there was such a look of satisfaction that Eddie knew he hadn't seen someone look so spectacular in a long time.

"Fuck," Buck mumbled when Eddie finally flopped onto his back because otherwise he was never going to stop kissing Buck. Eddie looked at the white ceiling above which was remarkably similar to his own and tried not to laugh somewhat hysterically. "That was- _Fuck_ , that was really good."

Eddie smiled slightly dopily, needing a shower and then a very long sleep when he realised it had been a very long time since he'd woken up and he was past due for a solid block of rest. "Yeah?"

" _Fuck_ yeah," Buck insisted, hand patting blindly at Eddie's arm. "I think you broke my brain. I don't usually swear this much."

He chuckled, tilting his head towards Buck and leaning over to kiss the curve of his shoulder. "Do you mind if I shower?"

"Mmm no, go ahead." Buck waved vaguely towards one of the doors on the other side of the room, his eyes restored to a crystal blue that danced over his face. "I'd join you but I think I need to remember how to walk first. There are extra towels under the sink."

He rolled his eyes, certain Buck was just stroking his ego, and climbed out of the bed for the shower. He didn't waste his time, rinsing the sweat and grime of the day away, maybe stealing a little of Buck's woodsy soap, stretching some of the kinks out of his muscles beneath the spray, before he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.

It felt strange to just…leave the bathroom without his clothes on but this was always the awkward part for him: the _after_. Was he meant to get dressed and return home? That was a bit difficult when his truck was outside the bar but he could tap onto the Uber app. He should probably at least put on underwear before crawling into Buck's bed though, right? Because sleeping in Buck's bed… That seemed a perfectly reasonable place right now.

He stepped out of the bathroom, eyeing the way Buck's sheets had changed from pale blue to white, and noting his jeans had been neatly folded over the rail of Buck's loft.

"My turn for a shower, but if you put on clothes and ruin the opportunity to cuddle me naked with that jacked body of yours, I won't forgive you," Buck teased, sweeping towards him in utter naked, somewhat messy glory to kiss his cheek before he disappeared into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and Eddie stared and blinked at the sheets as he tried to get his brain to restart.

_Well then._

Eddie still felt slightly awkward about simply _lying naked_ in someone else's bed so he left the towel around his waist and settled his head against one of Buck's pillows, promising himself he'd only close his eyes for a moment or two while he waited for Buck to shower. By the time the moment or two, or three or four, was over, when he heard the door click and felt the bed shift against him, when fingers peeled apart the towel and a body pressed against his chest, he was hovering on the edge of sleep and couldn't fathom moving. He made a small hum of acknowledgement and there was a soft breath of a laugh, followed by the weight of a blanket draping over him. His arm was repositioned, settling across the curve of a waist. He was faintly aware of the gaps and ridges and bends of his body slotting against the body in front of him, but he was too tired to think about it too deeply.

"Sleep well, Eddie," he heard whispered into the almost-darkness, and then he was out.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone knows where I was meant to interrupt this massively long scene just to create a cliffhanger or a break to torment you for another week, let me know... Or maybe it was just always meant to be this way ;)
> 
> Are some of the Marks ideas starting to become a little clearer now? They're just one aspect of the AU, after all. There will be more explanations and ideas sprinkled through many more chapters too, so stay tuned for that!


	8. Chapter 8

**Word Count:** 5,234  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

**Warnings:** This chapter contains explicit sexual content.

* * *

Eddie had always been a light sleeper.

He could blame it on having a kid with special needs, always being alert to the potential cry of " _Dad!_ " because of a nightmare or tripping in the dark.

Or he could blame it on years in the army, always being alert to patrols and incoming fire and needing to take cover.

Or he could blame it on having pranksters for sisters, always being alert to the potential of being woken with a bucket of water or pots and pans smashed together in his face.

Perhaps it was all of those things, or perhaps it was none of them.

In any case, Eddie had always been a light sleeper.

So when he stirred awake after some seven hours of sleeping, he was surprised to find the other side of the bed was empty and he hadn't awoken to Buck climbing free or moving around. He rubbed at his eyes before he realised he was very naked beneath the sheets and blankets, eyes sweeping the space and then hearing some quiet rustling downstairs. He felt awkward as he slid from the bed, dressing quickly and then fidgeting at the top of the stairs. What was he meant to say to Buck? Was he meant to leave? Or stay? Would they even see each other again?

"I won't bite, you know," Buck called. Eddie bit his lip as he descended the stairs, finding Buck coiled into a corner of his couch in the alcove under the stairs, a mug of coffee held in his hands. "Hi."

Eddie pushed his hands into his pockets, gaze flitting from Buck to some of the furniture and items to look at because this was…not something he'd done in…a really, _really_ long time. "Hey."

"You look like you're about to flee." Buck's eyes fixed on him, which just made it even harder for Eddie to look anywhere in Buck's general vicinity because he wasn't used to being seen through like he was a pane of glass. "Why do you want to leave, Eddie?"

Eddie shrugged, a nervous hand brushing over the strap of his watch where his thumb caught on the line of scarring beneath it. "I should- I need to go pick up Chris and-"

"Your grandmother already called earlier," Buck said calmly which made Eddie stare at him. "I said you were...with a friend sleeping off your shift yesterday. She said to take as long as you needed and she'll keep Chris busy."

Eddie wrinkled his nose but conceded the point with a small tilt of his head, shifting from foot to foot before sinking into one of the armchairs. "It's not fair to her to be signed up to taking care of my son when calls go bad," he mumbled, fingers folding into his lap.

"She's family, Eddie," Buck said with a shrug, lifting his mug to his lips and staring across the rim at Eddie. "She knows what you do, right? I'm sure she accepted that sometimes making sure you take care of yourself means you need some space from your kid."

Eddie wasn't sure he entirely agreed – being a single father wasn't exactly something he'd ever envisaged happening, but it was part of the deal now – but he'd also listened to Athena's demand that he take care of himself enough times to know that Buck was poking at the same sorts of issues. He figured any attempt to argue with Buck's opinion would be as unsuccessful as Athena, although neither Athena nor Buck knew the number of times his parents and Abuela had suggested he leave SWAT for something with regular hours and stability for Chris. _Especially_ since Shannon had died. Neither knew how much guilt he felt that he continued to lead the team.

"You still seem uncomfortable." Buck placed his mug on the coffee table and got to his feet. "Can I get you something? Coffee? Breakfast?"

Eddie wished he could relax but Buck was acting so normal, and most of Eddie's nerves felt raw with uncertainty. He still felt like he was meant to shuffle out the door, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Coffee… Coffee would be good," he agreed and Buck offered a tired sort of smile, sweeping past him and brushing a hand against his shoulder on the way to the kitchen. Eddie shuddered at the contact, something like an electrical tingling shuddering down his spine. He blinked rapidly, turning to look at Buck who had a similar sort of confused expression on his face.

"What…was that?" Buck said, his hand curling towards his chest like he could still feel the electricity passing through it.

Eddie bit his lip, fingers twitching to rub at his shoulder and scatter the sparks that buzzed beneath his skin. He'd had it before, with Shannon, but it was different with her. She'd been desperately waiting for him to get a Mark but with Buck… With Buck, and after their conversation in the early hours about all his pale Marks, Eddie didn't want to freak him out.

"Eddie?"

He knew Buck had had a half-half Mark before, though. He wasn't sure who that person was but it seemed like it hadn't lasted long, but as he'd pointed out last night, Buck was capable of receiving darker coloured Marks. Buck was capable of having people care for him.

"It's...a Mark thing," he said, struggling to meet Buck's eyes when the twitching hands in his lap were so much more interesting.

"A what?"

Eddie peered up at Buck, because Buck might not have many darker Marks but he wasn't stupid. He knew how society worked. He understood the biology behind the Marks. They all did. If parents didn't tell you, then schooling certainly covered it: how red implied Fate thought there was a potential for a deep connection which may never be requited; how half-half meant Fate's string had been burned at both ends to provide a chance at requited feelings; how completely black meant burning through the chance Fate had offered. Eddie could still remember how classes about Marks at school included demonstrations with matchsticks, the creeping black along the solid wood until it turned to ash, just like the bond which could form with a requited Mark.

When Buck continued to stare at him in disbelief, Eddie's fingers unravelled the buttons of his shirt, peeling the fabric away even as he felt a slight tremble across his shoulders to expose himself like this. He lowered his eyes as he revealed the Mark, hearing the strangled noise of shock or surprise behind him.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of tears. "I didn't- It's not like I meant to-" His words reminded him of how Shannon had once said something similar, and his stomach turned. Everyone knew Fate didn't use logic or reason to tie people together. The Marks went deeper, defying any sort of reasonable explanation. Trying to offer excuses made it seem like he was regretting that he had feelings, although he wanted to blame Fate for what was beyond any feasible understanding of free will.

He startled at the heat that rippled through him at the tentative brush of fingertips against his shoulder, the swirl of a thumb over the Mark that made every muscle stretch taut against his bones. "Buck…" he whimpered, eyes flickering up and towards where Buck was staring at him with an odd mixture of wonder and fear.

"It's… How long have you had this?" Even just the light pressure of Buck's fingers was enough to make Eddie's head spin.

He dragged his bottom lip back between his teeth, knowing Buck would put together the pieces pretty quickly. He couldn't see why he'd lie though. "After… After we first kissed… I… Chris pointed it out the next morning..."

Buck's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing several times. "But that- That was _ages_ ago!"

Eddie's eyes dropped towards his lap, even as his skin continued to buzz and prickle. It _had_ been ages ago and he'd fled, like a coward, like a child, like an idiot. He'd avoided Buck, he'd skipped classes, he'd endured the painful tugs and the restless nights. His attempt to stay away from Buck had been misguided and pointless and laced with selfishness and fear.

"Eddie…" Buck moved around the chair, his hand drifting from Eddie's shoulder down to tangle among the bunched fabric against his bicep. Buck crouched in front of him, the curious and wary stare sinking deep within Eddie's soul. "When did it change?"

He felt like his breath got stuck in his lungs at Buck, question and his brow furrowed. "Change?"

Buck hesitated, glancing away and swallowing. Eddie could feel the way Buck's fingers trembled against his arm. "It- It's half-half, Eds. It- So it can't be me."

He blinked. Repeatedly. Dumbly. His thoughts tripping over a solid block of confusion. " _What_?"

A single tear spilled down Buck's cheek and he swiped his palm against it like he was ashamed. And even though Eddie was terrified by the implications and the realisations, he reached out his hand to cradle Buck's jaw.

Buck's breathing hitched, turning away from him. "It- It's not me. I- I don't-"

"It _has_ to be you," Eddie interrupted, thumb skimming over Buck's jaw and trying to tilt his head back. "There's no one else in my life. Not like this, Buck."

"But I… I don't h-have a...a Mark," Buck sobbed, his voice shaking and eyes shining when he lifted his gaze to Eddie's.

Eddie met it steadily, shifting forward slightly in his chair. "Are you sure?"

Buck hesitated, teeth catching at his lip. Eddie tried to prise the flesh free but Buck was more stubborn.

"We- Do you want to- to check? I could-"

"But… But w-what if there i- _isn't_?" Buck insisted and Eddie shook his head slowly as he pressed his other hand against Buck's cheek, cupping his face and staring into his eyes. He was starting to realise that as afraid as he'd been of revealing the red Mark, a half-half one was even more terrifying to Buck than he could have imagined.

"There _has_ to be," he said gently, rubbing his thumbs over Buck's cheeks. "That electrical sort of thing you felt? That's not because you brushed over any Mark. It's one tied to you. You know that. You've already had one before."

"Not… Abby and I…" Buck shut his eyes and Eddie felt like his heart cracked into ribbons when he saw fresh tears spill down pale cheeks. "W-We never… I never saw her M-Mark… And we definitely n-never touched them…"

The scant pieces he knew about Buck's previous relationships started to gather more shape. Ignoring the discomfort of his unbuttoned and lowered shirt, he tugged at Buck's face until the other man shifted from his crouched position to Eddie's lap. His legs were somewhat awkwardly hooked over the arm of the chair so he could fit, and he was a whole lot heavier than Chris, and far broader across the shoulders, but Eddie still forced him into being curled into the embrace while he nosed at his blond hair and pressed kisses to his forehead beside the circular marks on his brow.

The sense of _peace_ that swelled within him and threatened to drown him in _calm_ was overwhelming. All the noise, all the worry, all the hurt faded under the comforting blanket provided Buck in his arms, by satisfying Fate. The strings curled around and around them, cinching their souls together into something fragile and terrifying.

He could feel Buck shaking against him, faint tremors that made Eddie strengthen his grip and skim the tip of his nose against the slope of Buck's. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured, knowing that there was nothing he'd let come between them now. If Buck wanted to reject it, then he'd let him go but Eddie was capable of making strong commitments and honouring them. Chris, and Buck's loose connection to Athena, made things more complicated but that wasn't enough for Eddie to doubt that it was the right decision to follow what Fate wanted, to give into the comfort that Buck brought him.

"But-"

He silenced further protests, further insecurities, by pressing his lips against Buck's. For a moment, it felt like he was tasting colours and seeing sounds and feeling smells. It was both intoxicating and overpowering, and he could feel how rigid Buck's posture was as the sensations had to be mirrored. He touched a hand to Buck's cheek, lifting his jaw and nipping at his bottom lip before swiping his tongue against it.

" _Eddie_ …" Buck whimpered, but it was as much a breathless plea when Eddie felt fists bunch into his shirt. Some of the tension across Buck's shoulders loosened, his spine bowing as he sank into the kisses Eddie kept pressing to the corner of his lips, or his jaw, or his cheek.

"Do you feel it?" Eddie mumbled, lips lingering near Buck's temple, or the splotch of birthmark above his eyebrow, or his hairline. Anything that would continue to soothe Buck's uncertainties, anything that would continue to convince him this was real, anything that would make Buck realise this was so much more than merely a hook-up. "It's intense, right?"

Buck nodded, breath catching when Eddie ran fingers through his hair and down to the nape of his neck. "I- I didn't know it was like this…"

Eddie rubbed his thumb against the ridge behind Buck's ear while kissing between the furrowed brow. Gradually, his blue eyes glazed and his breathing slowed and he slumped more into Eddie's arms. It seemed like a panicked reset switch which was…good to know.

"Do you… D'you want to talk about Abby?" he asked, noting how Buck's eyelids fluttered and there was almost certainly a spike in Buck's pulse given the shortened inhalations. "We don't have to-"

"I… Abby was…different," Buck said, twisting his arm around and through Eddie's, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder and releasing a shaky breath. "I… I developed feelings for her too quickly and then I let myself believe we could make it work for too long. Now she's travelling somewhere and…" Buck shrugged, nuzzling against Eddie's neck. "We never really- Even when I saw my Mark change, she…she never brought them up and we never- It was different to this…"

Eddie nodded, already having guessed as much from Buck's reactions to the touches or kisses. He seemed almost like a kitten, curling closer and closer. Any moment now, Eddie was expecting him to start purring. He brushed fingertips over some of the curves of Buck's face and kissed his forehead again, glad that some of his previous hysteria seemed to have faded. "Is- Is this okay?"

Buck peered up at Eddie, lip caught between his teeth as he lifted a hand to grasp Eddie's arm and deliberately skim his thumb on the inside of his wrist. "It's...a lot. You… You've had this before, right?"

"With Shannon?" He swallowed, hesitating when he met Buck's curious expression, before he nodded again. "It was over before she died. We… I guess we were trying to make it work again for Chris' sake? But our Marks were both black and it… We knew it wasn't really going to succeed. We were fighting all the time."

Buck squeezed his forearm gently, his blue eyes shadowed with sadness. "A loss like that is still awful though."

He closed his eyes, feeling as though Buck had exposed his difficulties with Abby and as tough as it was, he _wanted_ to talk to Buck about it. He wanted to talk about Shannon and not be so strangled by her death, but letting the weight of memories hit him all over again still crushed a lot of the air out of his lungs.

"I… I watched it scar," he mumbled, eyes prickling as his throat tightened. "You think you feel…cooler, I guess, when Marks turn black but when it scars… It's worse than ice seeping into your veins because it- Marks are all about your heart, right? Fate taunting you about who the heart wants?" A tear spilled down his cheek and he felt Buck's grip on his wrist tighten. "So when it… When it scarred, it was so painful that I thought a piece of me was dying... I knew she was gone and I- I didn't know if I'd find her but I had to find Chris. I had to find my son."

"I'm so sorry you went through that, Eddie," Buck whispered, pressing a kiss against his bicep. Eddie brushed a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling deeply against Buck's hair to try to calm himself and avoid falling apart because even that amount of talking about her, about the tsunami, about her death, after the day he'd had yesterday felt like too much. "It's- No one should ever have to- to see what happened that day. All those people just…w-washed away."

Something in the way Buck's voice wavered made Eddie tilt his head and open his eyes to meet Buck's haunted look. "Did you see?" he said, but he'd already recognised the glimmer in the blue eyes. He'd seen something similar stare at him in the dead of night when Chris screamed himself awake.

Buck's gaze drifted away and it was enough of an answer in itself. It was Eddie's turn to tighten his arms, shifting slightly so that he could twist his fingers through Buck's fingers rather than have his arm held.

"I might not have a scarred Mark from that day but I- I have my own scars," Buck admitted, his words as distant as his expression. At the same time, the confession was laced with as much vulnerability as Buck talking about his many pale pink Marks the night before.

He missed the steady, calm feeling he'd drowned in earlier and the inversion of senses when he'd kissed Buck. It wasn't that he regretted discussing some parts of their past heartbreaks – it was important if he wanted to avoid damaging the tenuous bond between them – but it still made him ache in places he couldn't easily escape when he was left alone with his own mind. It left him feeling hollowed out and raw around the edges.

"Are you- How sure are you that- that I'm- that the half-half Mark is...is related to me?" Buck said and a sense of certainty Eddie hadn't felt a moment ago bubbled to the surface.

He bumped his nose against Buck's to coax the movement of his head until he could kiss Buck again, sinking into the heady heat that never existed anywhere else except in Fated bonds. His teeth dragged at Buck's bottom lip and he felt the shudder against him, the way Buck shifted his weight and spread fingers across the bare skin of Eddie's exposed shoulder, the way Buck's tongue licked at his own. When a fingertip grazed over the Mark, a moan stuck behind his ribcage and his hands curled into whatever he could grasp of Buck's hand or shirt. It was like taking a blowtorch to his skin, setting every nerve on fire until he melted into something inhuman.

Eddie managed to stop kissing Buck for a moment, if only because he needed to catch his breath when the fingertip moved over the Mark again and again and every time it felt like he was sizzling all over. "That's not- It doesn't f-feel like this unless it's the other half," he muttered, staring at Buck through lidded eyes and watching how the baby blues had turned towards the inkiness of night again.

"It looks intense," Buck observed and Eddie's breathing hitched at the deliberate, firm press against the Mark.

One eyebrow rose, a twitch at the edge of his lips. "You want me to show you?"

Buck stilled, his eyes dropping and his fingers no longer moving. "What if- What if you don't find anything?"

But Eddie knew he would, otherwise he wouldn't have a half-half Mark. Somewhere, he would find a Mark and then he'd show Buck exactly what it felt like to have a bond returned.

"C'mon," he said, scooting forward on the chair to set Buck's feet on the ground. He abandoned his shirt on the chair and grasped Buck's hand, guiding him towards the stairs.

"It's pretty," Buck mumbled as he pressed against Eddie's back, lips ghosting over the Mark unexpectedly. Eddie's knees almost buckled and he absolutely nearly stumbled up several stairs if it hadn't been for Buck catching him.

"Don't- _Fuck_ , don't d-do that," he said, his voice strangled around the urge to forgo searching for the Mark in favour of shoving Buck onto the bed and removing every piece of fabric from his skin.

Buck hummed, the damp tip of his tongue circling Eddie's shoulder. "Is it always like this?"

Eddie pulled himself out of Buck's grip as best as he could, pushing the man to sit on the edge of the bed and ignoring the cheeky pout. "No," he answered, because the sensory inversion and shattering overload had definitely faded with Shannon. The ability to think coherently had generally improved too.

Buck continued to pout at him, even as Eddie tugged the t-shirt over his head and examined each of the pale pink Marks like maybe somehow one of them had darkened. Buck's pout slowly faded, replaced with uncertainty or maybe fear that Eddie wouldn't find what he was looking for. It was clear Buck's chest was empty of a Mark, and his arms, and his shoulders. Eddie kneeled on the bed to skim over Buck's back, searching for something that clearly wasn't there.

"It's not- I w-was right, w-wasn't I?" Buck whispered and Eddie shook his head, kissing the back of Buck's shoulder.

"We'll keep looking. Can you remove your jeans for me?"

Eddie could see Buck's hands were shaking as he fumbled at the button and zip of the jeans, wriggling the denim down until it had pooled on the floor. "There's nothing-"

He moved off the bed and hushed Buck with another gentle kiss, the fear in the blue eyes more pronounced as Eddie started examining the long stretch of his legs from thigh to toe. There was the silver coil of a scar running along the outside of his left so Eddie started with the right. It was when he brushed over Buck's right knee that he drew some sort of reaction – a significant twitch of his leg that lifted his eyes back to Buck's.

"Lie down and roll over?" he suggested and though Buck bit his bottom lip, he settled on the bed as requested. Once he did, the half-half Mark nestled behind the hinge of his knee was an obvious contrast to the pale skin that surrounded it. Eddie couldn't fight the stupid smile that spread across his lips at the sight.

"E-Eddie?"

" _Told_ you," he said, swiping his index finger over the Mark. He delighted in the moan that escaped Buck as well as the resounding prickling and buzzing that spread across his own skin. "See?"

Buck trembled, fingers fisting into the pillows above his head. "Again?"

Eddie climbed onto the bed so that he could keep touching the Mark with his thumb, feeling Buck quaking beneath him as he kissed a line across his broad shoulders and down his back. By the time he reached the Mark and pressed his lips to it, Buck was already grinding his hips against the mattress and making a lot of incoherent gasping noises but that got choked off with a low whine.

"E-Ed- Eddie- Please-"

Eddie crawled over Buck again, nipping at the back of his shoulder and up his neck. "D'you understand the intensity now?"

"Mhm…" Buck shuddered and slowly rolled himself over, eyes blown dark as he met Eddie's gaze. "You want me to get rid of those jeans you're stuck in?"

He didn't need to be asked twice. The feverish desperation that had started their interaction last night returned with a vengeance now as the remaining fabric covering Eddie was banished to some part of the floor in between hasty kisses and needy touches. Buck seemed to be making it a point to cling to Eddie's shoulder, which was a terrible distraction when he was trying to focus on not jamming his fingers into Buck too hard, soaking every whimper into a kiss. By the time he was rolling the condom on, Buck already looked utterly blissed and Eddie was entranced.

"All that personal training," he said slowly, eyeing the sheen of sweat that was spread across Buck's brow and glittering down his chest, the way his chest heaved and his stomach clenched, "it must make you pretty flexible, right?"

Buck's eyes fluttered towards him, a faintly creased brow conveying the question he seemed incapable of formulating.

A smile tugged at the edge of Eddie's lips as he lifted Buck's right leg, stretching it up and over his shoulder. Something choked in Buck's throat when their Marks touched, the thunderclap of heat and pressure and electricity that Eddie had anticipated even though it still felt like it inverted his understanding of the universe. Thinking was impossible when it was like this. Even breathing didn't seem like an automatic process anymore.

It was fascinating to watch how Buck – a taller and broader guy who was clearly capable of lifting Eddie off his feet if necessary – utterly fell apart beneath him as he pushed forward, sinking into the tight heat of his body again. He caught the groan amidst a messy kiss, pressing into Buck's embrace and feeling every part of his heart and soul spark whenever their Marks brushed. It was always the best and worst part about the half-half Marks – the realisation your feelings were returned and yet the taunting of Fate that it could all so easily end. Buck's lingering black Mark and Eddie's scarred Mark were proof enough of that.

Buck clung to whatever part of Eddie's body he could reach. "E-Eddie-"

"I- I know," he breathed, watching the fan of Buck's eyelashes open and close against the thinnest ring of blue that was mostly swallowed by all the black. He doubted his eyes were any less dark, doubted his flesh was any less flushed, as he rolled his hips and watched Buck's ruby mouth part around a series of shortening gasps.

The sensations spilling through him because of their Marks was overwhelming, thoroughly intoxicating, and he might've felt embarrassed at how little control he had, how quickly he felt his body clench around an orgasm, if he knew Buck wasn't exactly the same. There were whimpered pleas and hitched curses trapped between or stolen by lips and tongues and teeth, haphazard hands grasping at slick skin, and he could feel the need building higher and higher as the separation between the Marks thinned, as their souls synced for heart-stopping seconds.

Buck made a muffled cry against Eddie's lips as he came, nails digging into Eddie's back while his awareness whited out. Eddie felt the heat pool between them and around them and within him and he could only groan against Buck's jaw, the transference of pleasure between their touching Marks feeling like it looped back at him and nearly shattering him again and again. His lips found Buck's and his hands twisted into his hair and his heart swelled a size larger to accommodate another person in his life again, and then everything suddenly seemed like it was a whole lot harder to breathe.

He fumbled at Buck's body, at his throat, the panic invading his senses before he'd even processed what was happening. "B-Buck-"

"Hey. _Hey._ Eddie, it's okay," Buck whispered, trembling beneath Eddie as the fuzzy expression in his eyes drifted across Eddie's face and he grasped at Eddie's wavering head. "It's okay, Eddie. Breathe through it. Breathe with me, okay?"

He held onto Buck, tumbling from the brightest peak to something horribly low in so many seconds that he couldn't possibly keep up, tears building at the edge of his vision as Buck pulled him close and kissed over his face.

"Hey… I'm here, I'm here," Buck murmured, nuzzling and clasping at Eddie which at least helped stopped him from fleeing to the other side of the room with everything that was unravelling through him.

Grief, hurt, fury, despair, desperation, and the terrifyingly real and tangible threads of _love_ that he knew too well tore through him in ways that he hadn't expected. Everything he probably should've felt after Shannon died, everything he'd locked away for almost a year, seemed to slam into him simultaneously, from every angle, and he held onto Buck like an anchor in the storm, fumbling to retain a grip in reality.

Buck's hand found his wrist, pressing the palm firmly against his chest. "With me, Eds. Okay? In…and out…"

Eddie wasn't sure how long it took to slow his breathing or stop feeling like his insides were being shredded but he was exhausted by the end of it and embarrassed by the nudity, embarrassed that they were still sweaty and sticky, embarrassed at falling apart like that after sex. One of Buck's hands continued to hold Eddie's against his chest, the other set of fingers stroking through his damp strands of hair, and though he felt somewhat more relaxed, he also felt much too much.

"I- I'm sorry," he mumbled but Buck shook his head, nudging a kiss to his forehead.

"You lost her and that was… I thought you made my brain implode last night but that was something else," Buck said, and Eddie could feel the teasing lift of Buck's lips against his brow. "You've read the books, right? You know how it is when you're Marked again after losing someone. It's okay. You're okay, Eds."

Eddie still hated it, wanting to apologise endlessly for the crash of emotional turmoil, but he had a feeling Buck would probably just keep telling him that it was okay. He wasn't really interested in going in circles because he suspected they were both as stubborn as each other in that regard.

"I- I think I should shower and sort out picking my kid up from my Abuela," Eddie said, circling his index finger around the tattoo of three shapes on Buck's chest that he'd spent so long sketching.

"Yeah, I guess you should fulfill your responsibilities otherwise I'd suggest staying here for the rest of the day…"

"Don't tempt me." He peered slightly nervously at Buck. "You- You want to join me?"

Buck tilted his head to meet Eddie's eyes, brows arched. "In the shower or picking up your son?"

Eddie bit his bottom lip, swallowing against the burst of nerves in his throat. Chris knew about the Mark. Chris had met Buck before. He wasn't sure how he was meant to keep something like this from Chris, nor did he think he wanted to. Not when Buck made him giddy with hope and excitement, not when Fate wanted them to be near each other far more often. He couldn't imagine concealing this from Chris.

"Both?"

Buck looked undeniably shy with the little flicker of a smile that inched across his lips. "Are you sure?"

"About what?"

Buck snorted, his smile widening into a lazy sort of grin. "Both?"

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... I'm gonna guess that answers a whole lot of the questions from last chapter?? 👀


	9. Chapter 9

**Word Count:** 2,451  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

The return to the bar on Buck's bike was as exhilarating as it had been the night before and his truck felt incredibly tame and boring by comparison when Eddie sat in it. His hands curled around the steering wheel, heart still thumping as he gazed at Buck through the windscreen. He hadn't had a chance to really admire the long, lean lines of Buck's form straddling the bike but it was a good view and Buck clearly knew it given the way he raised his visor and winked at Eddie before jerking his head towards the road.

Right.

Picking up Chris.

Who was probably going to squeal excitedly at seeing the bike and then pout tremendously that he wasn't allowed to ride it with Buck.

He'd have to remember to draw up some boundaries with Buck later which were exceedingly hypocritical that his son was _never_ allowed near the thing.

He flipped the ignition and led the way to Abuela's house, driving carefully so that Buck didn't have to speed through an amber light or stop suddenly and ram into the back of his truck. Occasionally Buck pulled alongside him at traffic lights, waving a gloved hand that Eddie rolled his eyes at before waving back. Other drivers on the road must've thought they were nuts. Maybe they were. But when he'd start driving again, he couldn't help the small smile that lifted his lips until the next red light.

Eddie slowed to a stop outside Abuela's house, eyeing the empty front porch. Images flickered across his memory, like a grainy black-and-white clip, of his slow-motion walk to the porch before collapsing to his knees to sob into Abuela's arms after he'd left a sedated Chris at the hospital. He'd only left because Athena had ordered it, because Walker had dragged him away, because Chris was asleep and the doctor had insisted Eddie get some rest too. Eddie had tried to stay at the hospital but they'd-

He startled at the knocking against the glass and the flashes scattered away. He wiped at an errant tear on his cheek as he turned off the ignition and opened his door.

"What happened?" Buck said, reaching for his hand even as Eddie shook his head and shoved his fingers in his pockets.

"I'm fine," he muttered, swallowing whatever emotions had brimmed to the surface at the thought of the last time he'd turned up to Abuela's with a changed Mark. He squared his shoulders and avoided meeting Buck's eyes, too afraid the tenuous control of his emotions would start to fray or snap if Buck showed too much compassion. Falling apart earlier had been awful enough and all those emotions weren't something he wanted to revisit right now. Not when his son was so close. He always had to be in control for Chris. He was the only parent his son had left.

"Eddie-"

"Are you coming?" he deflected, stepping onto the path without waiting for Buck. It was rude, he knew that, and his mother and Abuela would probably scold him for it, but he needed to trap all the feelings he had for Shannon back in a box where they couldn't hurt him.

Buck's footsteps clicked behind him as Eddie ascended the handful of steps and rapped against the door, twisting the handle open. Buck clearly wavered at the thought of entering the house, so Eddie brushed a quick kiss to his cheek and then stepped inside.

"Abuela, soy yo. ¿Dónde estás?"

"Cocina," she called back and he could smell the sweet, buttery freshness of cookies and hear Chris' laughter. He followed the smells and sounds, some of the emotional turmoil evening out when he laid eyes on Chris standing near the oven with his face and shoulders dusted in flour.

"Dad!"

He moved towards Chris, lifting his son into his arms and nuzzling against the floured cheeks. He pressed a kiss to his forehead and cheeks, cradling his body into his chest. "Hello, my little warrior."

"Hi," Chris hummed with a smile, a hand tangling into his shirt.

Eddie approached Abuela and dropped a series of kisses to her cheeks and then wrapped his spare arm around her shoulders for a loose hug. "Thank you for keeping him overnight, Abuela."

She patted his cheeks when he pulled away, staring into his eyes with a knowledge and wisdom that reflected her years. "Yesterday was difficult, nieto. You know it is no problem."

"Yesterday… Yeah… " He nodded absently, squeezing her and giving Chris another kiss. "I, uh… I have someone I'd like you both to meet."

Chris' eyebrows rose and Abuela's eyes glinted. Eddie was still figuring out the little connections that had begun to form between him and Buck but he remembered from his days with Shannon that he would start to sense emotions or could encourage certain responses if he tried hard enough. So he attempted some sort of mental _willing_ thing with his attention focused on the Mark and he heard a stuttered sigh near the door and then some shuffling footsteps in the corridor.

"Chris, you- D'you remember Buck?" he said as Buck appeared in the doorway, rocking from the balls of his feet to the heels and looking incredibly small for someone taller and broader than Eddie.

"Yeah! He was at Athena's party!" Chris said with an exuberant nod. "Why's he here?"

Eddie glanced between Buck, Chris and Abuela. Her eyes had shifted into something shrewd, a grin at her lips, that made Eddie immediately uncomfortable.

"Well, he's…" Eddie bit his lip, wondering why this was so difficult. Maybe if he'd had more time to rehearse what to say or maybe if he knew how they'd react to the way Buck was about to become incredibly enmeshed in their lives. "He thought he might hang out with us this afternoon," he said and his reasoning was lame but Buck still looked amused by it.

Chris' eyes flick between Eddie and Buck, something creasing his forehead and making his lips purse. "Okay…" Chris agreed, though he sounded dubious or doubtful about something.

"So Buck," Abuela began as she stepped towards Buck with an outstretched hand. "Is that a first name or a last name?"

Buck laughed, shaking her hand even as he rubbed the back of his neck shyly with the other. "Neither, Ma'am. It's a…a nickname for my last name, I guess. Buckley."

Abuela leaned up to kiss each of his cheeks and Eddie pressed his lips together to hide the smile at how Buck's cheeks pinked at the affection. "So we shouldn't call you Buck Buckley?"

Buck's lips twitched as Abuela released his hand and patted his chest. "It wouldn't be the first time I've heard that but uh- No, my first name is Evan so you can use that or Buck. Buck's… I use Buck most of the time."

 _Evan_?

It hit Eddie rather abruptly that he probably should have considered learning Buck's first name _before_ introducing him to his grandmother and to his son a second time. It had barely been two hours since they'd been all over each other in the shower and he could've smacked himself in the head if Chris wouldn't have worried that he wasn't okay.

Buck met his eyes, something reassuring in the half-smile that slightly reduced the urge to maim himself.

"It's lovely to meet you, Evan." Abuela patted his chest again before returning to the biscuits she had been sorting into containers. "I hope you three have fun today."

Eddie wasn't sure if his cheeks flushed noticeably but Buck's darting eyes certainly made him aware that their thoughts had both gone to the same place, which was a decidedly different idea for the word 'fun' that Abuela was referring to..

"Maybe the park for a little while?" Eddie suggested, stroking his fingers through some of Chris' curls as he looked over at Buck. "Then home to watch a movie?"

Chris nodded, nuzzling into Eddie's shoulder like he'd never let go. "Is Buck gonna stay with us?"

Abuela didn't quite hide her snort from Eddie's ears but Chris didn't seem to notice.

"I have work tonight so I can't stay too late," Buck explained and though Eddie would've gladly kept Buck held against him until the early hours of the morning again, he managed to swallow whatever disappointment he might've felt.

Abuela's look as she shoved a container of cookies into his hands indicated that she'd caught it anyway.

* * *

"Thank you for today," Buck said as he lingered on the front deck, the blue of the sky and white of the streaky clouds fading into apricots and soft pinks and purples with the setting sun. "Even if it was terrifying to meet your kid more…formally."

Eddie tugged Buck towards him, unwilling to let him go when it was still so early in their relationship. The Marks made it harder too, like Fate was trying to swirl strings around them to keep them together even though Buck _had_ to pull away to get to his shift at the bar.

"Chris isn't scary."

"No, but…what if he hadn't liked me? What then?"

Eddie pressed his lips to Buck's, feeling the way Buck's hesitation gradually melted until it dissolved completely when Eddie cradled Buck's jaw to drag a thumb around the shell and behind the ridge of his ear. "Doesn't matter because he _does_ like you, as do I."

"How am I meant to go to work _now_?" Buck pouted and Eddie grinned, kissing him again briefly.

"You'll just have to come back after."

Buck's eyes widened but he nodded, tilting his head into Eddie's hand so he could brush a kiss to the inside of Eddie's wrist. "You should text me."

Eddie's eyebrow arched, feeling slightly chilled when Buck pulled away from him and stepped backwards to descend the stairs towards his bike. "Maybe you should give me your number first."

It was Buck's turn to grin. "Who says you don't already have it?"

Eddie felt stupefied and thought all he did was blink for the remainder of Buck's return to his bike. He only returned Buck's departing wave out of habit. Once the roar of Buck's bike had faded down the street, he went searching for his phone and found it tucked behind a cushion on the couch.

"Dad?"

He scrolled the contacts, finding nothing under 'Buck' or 'Buckley' or 'Evan' or, on a random hunch, 'Art Guy'. Frowning, he started at the top and moved systematically down the list until he reached almost the very end and found one he definitely would've noticed if he'd looked before and definitely hadn't entered.

_yelkcuB navE_

"Dad?"

He bit down on the amused and slightly irritated grin to focus on his son. "Yeah?"

Chris shifted, little fingers wiggling together as he looked between the phone and Eddie. "Is Buck why you have the Mark on your shoulder?"

Well shit.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before he put the phone on the coffee table and held out his arms to Chris. Chris snuggled into his side, half sprawled in his lap, as Eddie rubbed a hand into his back.

"How would you feel if Buck _is_ the reason?" he said carefully, watching Chris for any signs of discomfort or unhappiness.

Chris shrugged but his fingers still twisted like he was anxious about something. "He seems nice."

He covered Chris' hands with one of his, drawing wavering hazel eyes upwards. "You know you matter more to me than anyone else in the whole world, right?"

"I know," Chris said with a nod, letting Eddie prise apart his hands. "I just don't want you to lose him and end up sad again."

It felt like his son had just made him swallow a stone and he stared in disbelief at his kid. "Oh, sweetheart…" He decorated Chris' curls with kisses, leaving Chris' hands to cup his face and rubbing a thumb over the apple of his cheek. "Sometimes stuff happens that's beyond our control, like realising we love someone or someone loves us. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes it means we're going to get hurt but we can't live in fear of that otherwise we'll be just as sad and unhappy because we're alone.

Chris gazed at him, his bottom lip wobbling slightly. "But... But I don't want you to be hurt…"

"I know, buddy, I know." He pressed a kiss to Chris' creased brow and ran his thumb down the bridge of his tiny nose. "And I don't want you to ever be hurt but that's the chance we take when Fate lures someone into our lives."

Chris sighed, his eyes still looking glittery while his fingers bunched around a button on Eddie's shirt. "Do… D'you like Buck?"

Eddie swallowed and ran fingers through Chris' hair, down the back of his neck before he linked hands around him in a loose, cradling embrace. "I… I do, yeah. How do you feel about that?"

"It's okay," Chris said and that was more of a relief than Eddie could have predicted. "I didn't mind watching a movie with him today. And he lifted me really high at the park!"

Eddie tucked Chris into his arms and slowly started to feel somewhat soothed that his son wasn't going to reject Buck, which would have made the fledgling relationship he was starting to develop difficult to maintain. It made him feel light-headed with hope and the warmth beneath his skin flare to life. "Would you…mind if I invited Buck over again?"

Chris pressed his lips together as he thought about it carefully, and Eddie had a feeling that the future colour of any of his Marks depended a whole lot on his son's approval of who gave them to him.

"Does he make you happy?"

Eddie wasn't sure if he could go that far. He knew being with Buck made him feel calmer, but he still didn't know much about Buck. He _wanted_ to get to know Buck though. He _wanted_ to keep Buck near him. Fate had tangled them together for a reason and he didn't want to lose that too quickly.

"I like being around him," he said, watching Chris and gauging his reaction to such a simplification of his complicated feelings.

"Then you can invite him over again," Chris agreed and Eddie felt some of the tension that had gathered behind his sternum start to loosen. Maybe it could be okay.

* * *

> _do i even want to ask when u put your number in my phone?_
> 
> _GPS directions 2 the bar_
> 
> _that was AGES ago_
> 
> _goes 2 show how often u look at ur contacts ;)_

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	10. Chapter 10

**Word Count:** 4,904  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

In the interests of ensuring Chris felt included in the developing relationship and Eddie learning to keep his hands to himself when Buck was around, they organised activities that involved the three of them as often as possible.

Chris had been shy around Buck at first, preferring to be carried against Eddie's hip as they wandered the zoo. His fingers had curled into Eddie's shirt, his cheek pressed to Eddie's chest, almost as soon as he'd been lifted out of the truck. Beside them, Buck carried a backpack of water and snacks over one shoulder with Chris' collapsed crutches still poking out the top of the zip. Every now and then, his fingers would brush against Eddie's elbow and Eddie had to keep biting down on his smile when a flurry of warmth entered his belly.

"The elephants are so _big_ ," Chris exclaimed as they sat and watched the training demonstration, hand twitching open and closed against Eddie's chest. Eddie tried to subtly stretch one leg and then the other, still easing out some of the kinks in his muscles from a long shift of running after suspects yesterday.

"Did you know the mama elephants have the longest pregnancy of any mammal?" Buck said, his arm looping through Eddie's as he passed bits of fruit salad to Chris. "Anywhere from a year and a half to two years because of their complex brain development."

Eddie stared at Buck with a raised eyebrow, wondering if any of it was true, but Chris wriggled in his lap to gaze at Buck with wide eyes.

" _Really_?"

"Yeah." Buck handed Chris a chunk of apple and reached for one of the water bottles. "They're super smart social animals, like monkeys and dolphins. They have really long pregnancies so that when they're born, they can almost immediately start understanding the social interactions of their herd."

Eddie took the bottle that Buck extended to him while Chris munched on the apple and watched the elephants with renewed interest, some of the tension in his little shoulders clearly receding.

"I didn't realise you were such a nerd," Eddie whispered to Buck once they'd left the elephant exhibit and found the gorillas. Chris was content to stand near the glass, giggling at the giant creature swatting lazily at a couple of smaller wrestling gorillas with a palm frond.

"Me? Nerd?" Buck chuckled, fingers weaving into Eddie's. "Just had to make sure I had a bunch of facts memorised in case your kid didn't like me to use as ice breakers."

Eddie wasn't sure whether to laugh or stare, which wasn't helped at all when Buck grinned and kissed his cheek.

"Hey Chris? D'you want to see the zebras?" Buck suggested and Chris' eyes had lost some of their wariness when he looked at them, almost certainly seeing their interlinked hands but not commenting on it. "Every pattern is unique."

"They are?"

Buck squeezed his hand before letting go, moving towards Chris with it outstretched. Chris' eyes flicked between it and Eddie. He gave an encouraging nod, his hopeful heart leaping into his throat as he watched his son's wavering hand press against Buck's palm. He was sure it wasn't his imagination that Buck's shoulders also lowered, as some of the pinched concern around his eyes faded.

"Yep. Every pattern of stripes is different, just like our fingerprints and tongues."

"Our _tongues_ are _different_?" Chris said, his voice turning squeaky with surprise and Eddie ducked his head and looked towards the gorillas to try not to smile too wide at how it looked like his son had been won over by a whole lot of random animal facts that Buck had learned just for him, just for _them_.

How was it even possible to have someone so amazing?

* * *

After the trip to the zoo, they developed a routine of sorts where Buck would stop by between his shift at the gym and the bar at least twice a week. His visits turned into an opportunity to take part in a Taste-Testing Food Extravaganza, which had varying degrees of success. Chris had enjoyed Eddie's suggestion to have a homemade salsa taste-testing challenge, scraping two of the bowls of salsa clean with his chips and then pouting when Eddie had explained he didn't have the ingredients to make more. But there were other times they'd used different ingredients or followed new recipes, contributing to Buck having smears of flour on his nose or Chris laughing when Eddie wrinkled his nose at the horrible concoction they'd attempted to cook up before declaring that the Extravaganza was morphing into an Unexpected Take-Away Extravaganza.

There were rare nights when Buck didn't have a shift at the bar and could stay longer. On those nights, they made new desserts and ate them in the pillow fort that Chris would build in the living room. Chris snuggled into Eddie's lap as he ate his dessert and Eddie gazed at Buck, wondering if it was possible to trip head over heels this fast for someone that so easily accepted a relationship that came with the baggage of a dead ex-wife _and_ his kid. And Eddie could tell, from the way Chris' eyes had started to light up when he heard Buck's car or bike in the driveway, that his son was wholly charmed by Buck too. Buck never seemed to get angry and was able to make Chris laugh at just about everything. There'd been a painful burst behind his heart when Eddie realised he hadn't seen Chris smile this much since well before Shannon had died, and he'd smiled into Buck's hand touching his arm like he knew.

Some of the nights that Buck didn't have a shift, he stayed over. It quickly became clear that Buck was _not_ good at keeping quiet when Eddie had a sleeping kid down the hall, but then neither of them were good at keeping their hands to themselves once that kid wasn't around.

" _Buck_ ," he hissed, attempting to cover Buck's mouth after a particularly loud moan surely shattered the stillness of his home.

"S-Sorry, you just- _Fuck_ , Eddie-" Buck gasped against his palm and though Eddie could hardly disagree when he was sitting on Buck's cock and trembling a little every time he rolled his hips, he _really_ didn't want his bleary-eyed son to find him like this because there was absolutely no way he could explain it.

"Swear I'm going to gag you one of these days," he muttered, and then regretted it when Buck's hips jerked rougher beneath him and it was his turn to make some sort of obscenely loud noise.

There were other versions of 'dates' too, ones that didn't include Chris. Sometimes it was a quiet breakfast after Chris had been dropped at school, or finding a handful of hours in the early afternoon before Eddie had to pick him up to do something mundane, like run errands or go grocery shopping for the next taste-testing evening. What used to seem like a chore now seemed like a way to spend time with Buck wherever possible.

And then there were Buck's zanier ideas, like signing them up for a charity colour run through Los Angeles. Though neither of them found the running part difficult, he couldn't remember a time he'd been covered in so much coloured mess and laughing so hard at how ridiculous Buck looked. His white teeth were such an odd contrast with all the chalk and foam that was plastered to his face, threaded through his hair, smattered across his shoulders and down his torso.

"You weren't even this much of a mess at Pride," Eddie pointed out as Buck grinned and twirled and examined the patches of colour all over him. Eddie couldn't help wondering whether there was a sense of relief for Buck when the colours mostly concealed the pale pink Marks littering his skin, boosting his confidence to be seen in public without his shirt on.

"You saw me _early_ in the day though, right?" Buck teased with a devilish glint, which immediately made jealousy flare hot and furious in Eddie's belly.

They'd taken Buck's bike so the colours didn't get smeared in their cars and Eddie wasn't surprised when they ended up at Buck's apartment. There were probably coloured smears left against the door and beside the wall to the bathroom because he was so overwhelmed with the urge to _touch_ , so determined just to _feel_ ,that he'd been tugging the remaining scraps of Buck's shorts off his skin before the front door had even latched shut. He was fascinated by the opportunity to expose patches that weren't stained with colour, dragging Buck beneath the warm spray of the shower to clean the worst of it off before they inevitably ended up in bed.

"You look good covered in rainbows," Buck said with a grin, scraping shampoo into Eddie's hair in an attempt to help him be clean and colour-free again.

He pressed a kiss to the edge of Buck's lips, trailing his fingers over the slick grooves of Buck's torso. "I think I'd look even better covered in _you_."

Buck shuddered against him and by the time they were stumbling out of the shower in search of the stairs and trying desperately hard not to slip, Eddie wasn't even sure they'd spent more than thirty seconds dragging towels against their skin so that they didn't soak the bed.

"You _do_ look good beneath me," Buck murmured as he kissed lines down Eddie's neck and across his shoulders, pushing him to the brink with a slow roll of his hips because they didn't have many opportunities like this to simply take their time when there was Chris' schedule to contend with, and alternating or opposing shifts across three jobs to deal with, and families to see because Buck saw Maddie for a dinner at least once a week and Eddie could hardly hide from his Abuela.

Eddie clung to the back of Buck's shoulders, breaths hitching in his lungs as Buck repositioned his legs, spreading him wider, finding new ways to torture him to the edge of unravelling. There was no rhyme or reason over who took and who gave, decisions generally made in the moment depending on how they felt on any given day, but Eddie would be lying if he didn't enjoy how Buck could pull him apart and put him back together again, how Buck knew _exactly_ what to do even though sometimes that led to cursing Buck out. This time, Buck seemed intent on keeping it slow and purposeful, working to a steady crescendo that had Eddie making a muffled cry against Buck's lips as he came between them. There were a lot of mumbled, soothing words against his sweat-soaked skin as Buck followed a few rolls of his hips later.

When they were sated, when he was curled into Buck's chest and exchanging lazy kisses and feeling like he could hum with the same sort of contentment as a satisfied cat, Buck slowly grinned in a way that made Eddie arch his eyebrow.

"So, is this gonna happen every time there's a run? Because if so, I'll sign us up for one every week."

He laughed, pressing another kiss to Buck's lips and drowning in the warmth that enveloped them. "Don't push your luck."

Buck's fingers dragged down Eddie's skin and he twitched at the pair of fingers which pushed into him. His eyes fluttered and a whimper slipped past his lips at the oversensitivity buzzing through him, even as his body reacted with a low thrum of need and want, to take advantage of every second that he had before he had to collect Chris from his grandmother.

"I must have a lot of luck already though when I can't get enough of you," Buck mumbled against him.

He shuddered, searching for Buck's mouth and catching it in a searing kiss that made his toes curl with the way Buck's tongue licked into his mouth and his teeth dragged at Eddie's bottom lip. It wasn't long before Buck had him as a writhing mess of pleas for a second round, shivering with oversensitivity and yet filled with waves of heat that he was only too willing to hold onto until he drowned.

* * *

"You're different," Walker commented almost idly while they pulled apart some of their gear to ensure it was thoroughly cleaned and still in workable order after a call.

Eddie studiously kept cleaning, pleased his hand barely faltered and he certainly didn't pause or look towards his second-in-command. It had been a long few weeks of barely being able to meet his team in the eye, alternating between furious and hurt at the decision that was made on the call with George and overwhelmingly elated at the relationship he was nurturing with Buck. He felt bad for not telling any of them, especially Walker, but everything with Buck still felt fragile and his emotions sometimes still felt fraught when he looked at Polson's mournful eyes across the room after he'd replaced her with Anders.

"Am I?"

Walker hummed as he loosened more sections of the sniper's rifle that Tandy was so fond of using. It didn't matter how fancy their tech became, they each had certain weapons and gear that was favoured more by others. "You know I've worked with you long enough to know that when you're coy or flippant with your responses that something else is going on, right?"

Eddie very deliberately counted to ten inside his head. Then he looked over the disassembled parts of various guns to meet Walker's curious stare with a grin, knowing it would be construed as sly because he was absolutely going to keep his private life private for right now. "Is it?"

Walker threw his cloth on the table and stared at Eddie, whose grin only widened because Walker was playing directly into his trap. "Diaz! Spill!"

Eddie quirked his brows and shook his head, picking up parts of the gun jigsaw puzzle to begin piecing it together again. "Why would I do something like that when you can just yell at me to give you the information for the rest of my life?"

Walker scowled. "Don't tempt me."

* * *

He knew the one-year anniversary would be tough for him, and for Chris, but he hadn't expected to draw the shift short-straw and end up working _again_.

"I need to be there for Chris," he insisted to Athena, who had looked apologetic but uncompromising when he held up the roster in utter dismay.

"It's only a half-shift. We need all hands that day because we're expecting a lot of folks at the various memorial services," she explained, pursing her lips together as he struggled to contain the irritation.

"A memorial service I should be taking my _son_ to because he lost his _mother_ ," he snapped, lowering his hand and feeling the paper crumble when he curled his fingers into a furious fist. "I lost my _wife_ , Athena."

"I know, Eddie," Athena said calmly, her pen still poised above whatever she'd been writing when Eddie had abruptly stormed into her office. "I know, and that's why you can still spend some of the day with him while the rest of your team are rostered on for a full shift."

It was impossible to make any sort of dent in her argument when she clearly knew he was going to have this sort of reaction and had rehearsed all her lines to be spoken calmly and without a hint of emotion. She wasn't dismissive, but she also wasn't going to bend the rules or change the shifts around so that he was available to be with Chris.

He scowled at her, storming from her office and pitying anyone that had to deal with him during the rest of the shift or the shift on the anniversary day.

* * *

> _i need to hit something_
> 
> _aren't u meant 2 draw when u feel like this?_
> 
> _hilarious_
> 
> _i try_
> 
> _we both know im not a good drawer_
> 
> _true  
>  u could come by the gym tomorrow after your shift is over?  
> we can spar together?_
> 
> _might take u up on that_
> 
> _see u then  
>  be safe_

* * *

He still felt stormy and was nursing a sore shoulder from landing hard during a take-down when he entered Buck's gym, casting his eyes around the equipment and the small, empty boxing ring in the middle of the room. There were a couple of women on treadmills over by the far wall, talking as they walked at a leisurely pace. There was a man lifting weights, watching himself in the mirror as he curled the barbells towards his chest. Off to one side was a door leading to another room which had timber panels on the bottom half and glass on the top half, which Eddie guessed was where Buck taught some of his self-defence classes.

He wandered towards the room to see if Buck was inside, but there was a tug at his shoulder which made him turn. Buck was exiting from another door across the room, dressed in a navy tank top and black shorts. If Eddie hadn't felt so angry at the world, he probably would have gotten distracted at the swell of muscles that he loved so much and all the glistening Marks on display with the scant scraps of fabric of his shirt.. Buck met his eyes across the room and gave a little wave, which Eddie felt silly returning as he crossed in front of the boxing ring.

"Hey." Buck wrapped him into a hug as soon as Eddie was close enough to fold into his outstretched arms. Buck kissed his cheek, almost certainly brushing a hand beneath the collar of his t-shirt to deliberately graze the Mark on the back of his shoulder. Some of his reddened vision faded slightly but it wasn't enough to erase it. Eddie wasn't sure if there was anything that _could_ erase it.

He cuddled into Buck's arms, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that was laced with sweat across the breadth of his shoulders. "Hi…"

Buck nuzzled a kiss against his jaw, the shell of his ear, hand smoothing across Eddie's back. "Still want to fight?"

He nodded, his fingers twitching into Buck's tank top because he didn't know how else to get rid of the maelstrom inside him. "I don't want to see Chris like this. I don't want to tell him I won't be there for him on the anniversary of the tsunami feeling like this."

It had been a horribly long shift of trying to keep it together and he knew everyone was still walking on eggshells around him. Walker had tried to pull him aside a few times but he'd shaken his friend off, barely wasting any time to change out of his black fatigues and into something more civilian before showing up at the gym with twitching fingers and an ache behind his heart. He'd texted Carla to keep Chris a little longer and then tried to shut out all the noise in his head that made him feel guilty and like a terrible father because he couldn't be there for his son on one of the worst days of his life, _again_.

"Why not? Are you working?"

Eddie nodded again and Buck released a breath of understanding, rubbing a hand against his back.

"Alright. Let's get all this out of your system and then we'll figure out a way of talking to Chris."

And if Eddie hadn't still been feeling like he might just peel his skin off due to all the pent-up anger, he might have softened a little at Buck's casual use of the 'we' when it came to talking to his son.

Buck released him and moved towards the ring, throwing some tape towards Eddie for his hands. "Start with that."

Part of Eddie's attention stayed on Buck as he wandered the room, checking on the two women on the treadmill, trading jokes with them if their laughter was anything to go by, and then chatting with the man and adjusting his grip slightly and demonstrating how to try moving his arms in a different configuration to strengthen other muscles. It never ceased to amaze him how easily Buck could slip between different roles, chatting as easily with people in the gym as he did in the bar as if Eddie wasn't right there, humming with an inner rage.

Still, he was also focused on wrapping his hands and wrists thoroughly because if he injured himself while off the clock, Athena would probably kill him. He peeled his shirt over his head to add some tape to his shoulder and he knew Buck noticed when he sauntered towards him.

"What'd you do?" Buck asked as he traced over some of the tape and the faint outline of a bruise that would almost certainly be worse tomorrow.

"Got flung into a wall when the asshole tried to run."

Buck frowned, fingers trailing down his arm as he pressed a gentle kiss to the Mark on the back of Eddie's shoulder. It lessened the madness, but not enough. "You sure you want to do this?"

"The only thing that stopped me killing someone was knowing I'd come here," he said, pressing away from some of Buck's tenderness because his fingers still twitched and curled in readiness for the fight. "I don't need you to be gentle with me right now, okay?"

"Alright." Buck let him go, pulling himself past the ropes circling the ring and throwing the gloves towards Eddie climbing onto the mat. Velcro scratched as Buck pressed his hands into the pads and rolled his shoulders. "Bring it on, then."

He started gently, even though he didn't want to, because he needed to gauge what Buck knew or didn't know about fighting. He probably shouldn't have been surprised that Buck could keep up with him considering how Buck had flipped him over in bed that first time, but it always paid to be cautious.

By the time Buck started encouraging him to let go, he could feel some of the noise quietening as his instincts took over. The guilt gave way to anger, his blood heating as he thrashed against the pads covering Buck's hands and felt sweat trickle down his temples or arms or the curve of his spine. It wasn't fair that Chris was going to be alone, and it wasn't fair that he was working again, and it wasn't fair that Shannon had died, and it wasn't fair that Eddie hadn't been able to save her, and it wasn't fair that he still felt so furious that she'd been martyred in his son's eyes after abandoning them so many times.

He threw another punch towards Buck that soared wide and stumbled, something in his rage cracking and disintegrating into sorrow as he thought about how many times Shannon had left, how many times he'd tried to make it work, how many times he'd kept ignoring the black Mark telling him it was over because he wanted her to be involved in Chris' life. He choked on a sob, knees folding beneath him as hands caught beneath his arms and helped lower him to the mat.

"Hey, hey. I've got you," Buck murmured, peeling at the pads covering his hands until he could stroke damp strands of Eddie's hair off his face, until Eddie was half-sprawled into his lap and clinging to his shirt as he cried. "Let it out, Eds. It's okay."

He curled into Buck's arms as best as he could, painful sobs sticking in his throat as tears continued to spill down his cheeks. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to keep being angry. He wanted to keep hitting things. He wanted to keep hating Shannon for leaving him and Chris.

But Buck was so caring, soothing away the anger with gentle touches and reassuring words, and eventually all that was left was an echoing fury and a bone-deep pain. He was fairly certain that some of the control he usually held onto so fiercely was unravelling like spiralling ribbons, because it had nowhere to go in the face of all his attempts to contain it and Buck gently pulling apart the broken pieces.

Once he'd cried everything out of his system, he felt exhausted. It could also have had something to do with coming off a twenty-four-hour shift with only a handful of brief naps scattered throughout, followed by smacking gloves into pads for God only knew how long, but…he was exhausted.

Buck's fingers picked at the straps of the gloves, tugging them off and then folding his fingers into the gaps of Eddie's. He applied a slow squeeze of pressure every time he inhaled, and then gradually released it every time he exhaled. It gave him something to focus on, something to calm his frayed nerves as he sought to find a regular pattern of breathing again. "I'm here."

He nodded, dragging a thumb against Buck's and sinking into being held because the thought of pulling away was too much right now. Even if he was on a raised platform in the middle of the room. Who else was in the gym and had witnessed him go to pieces? God, that would be embarrassing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." He shifted slowly in Buck's lap, unfurling himself until he could sit up even though he still held onto one of Buck's hands and wasn't sure how he was ever meant to let him go "I know I'll be okay but I… I should clean up so I can collect Chris."

Buck squeezed his hand, climbing to his feet, and then hauled Eddie up until he was wrapping arms around Buck's torso and pressing into his shoulder. When Eddie glanced around the gym, he noticed that it seemed to be empty but he wasn't sure when or where or how that had happened.

"You know, I could spend some of the anniversary with Chris," Buck said somewhat casually, drawing away to touch a hand to Eddie's cheek. "I could take him to one of the services."

Eddie blinked in surprise because Buck and Chris got on well, but he wouldn't have imagined asking such a massive favour. "You… You'd do that?"

Buck swallowed, gaze flicking away. There was something in the edge of his eyes that Eddie recognised because he'd seen it in Chris' when he'd woken him from the nightmares in the months after the water had tried to take him away.

"You were there," he said, realising he'd misunderstood some of the look in Buck's eyes that first time they were truly talking, half-dressed and distracted by the Marks. He hadn't pushed at the time, and they'd rarely talked about Shannon or the tsunami since, but even so…

"I was," Buck confirmed, his prior confidence fading when his voice came out strangled. "So I have my own reasons for going to the memorial services and if Chris wants to go, then I- I can take him." His throat bobbed. "If he doesn't want to go, I can see him after and we can hang out. And when you get off your shift, we can _all_ hang out."

His body was tired but he cradled Buck's cheek, pressing a small kiss to the edge of his lips. A gesture of thanks, and appreciation. "I'll talk to him."

Buck nodded and pressed a matching kiss to his lips, then hummed and wrinkled his nose. "You were right. You do need to clean up. You stink."

Eddie huffed a laugh and shoved Buck away from him, following Buck past the ropes until his feet hit the floor of the gym. "Which way are the showers?"

Buck grasped his hand and led him through the door he'd appeared out of before. It was a smallish office that led to a private bathroom at the back with a toilet and shower. "I have to stay outside in case someone comes in," Buck said when he caught the way Eddie eyed the space and then eyed Buck, with his interest in the shower apparently too obvious.

"You sure you can't join me for five minutes?" he suggested hopefully and Buck chuckled and kissed him, crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie's hands weren't sure whether they wanted to tug at the tank top or the elastic of Buck's shorts but he could feel the lean lines of Buck against him, the feel of his hot breath fanning across his skin.

"I'm pretty sure you're too tired anyway," Buck mused, nipping playfully at his bottom lip, and Eddie could begrudgingly admit Buck was probably right. "Maybe if you get some sleep this afternoon and can't sleep tonight once you've put Chris down, I'll stop by."

Eddie's heart almost certainly skipped a beat at the look in Buck's eyes. "You don't have work at the bar?"

Buck shook his head, fingers light against the grooves of Eddie's torso, pressing at the hem of his pants. "Not tonight. You want me to come over?"

His only response was a bruising kiss that led to another laugh bubbling from Buck's lips and a disappointed whine from Eddie when Buck pulled away and left him to shower alone.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	11. Chapter 11

**Word Count:** 4,899  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

 **Warnings:** There is some brief but explicit sexual content in this chapter.

* * *

Walker stayed disturbingly close to his side while he leaned against the van, hands clasped around the rifle as they surveyed those walking past. In theory, it was no different to working Pride or any other major LA event. People drifted by and it was their responsibility to assess for threats and subdue them before anything erupted. In practicality, there was less noise than any typical LA event and the clothes of everyone were bleached of colour. It was unnerving that the majority of what he could hear was simply footsteps, and Walker's occasional inhale by his side. It was common for crowds to avert their eyes from the SWAT vehicle but there was something even more timid in facial expressions than usual.

"We can move closer to a service if you want to hear some of the words," Walker murmured without looking at him, their training too ingrained to truly break focus.

Anders and Nicholls were on the opposite side of the plaza, as still as statues in their gear. Occasionally someone would peer at them, blatantly eyeing their rifles or their tac belts, and then keep walking with a bit of extra distance. Tandy was on a roof overlooking the intersection, their eyes in the sky scanning at a broader distance.

He glanced to one side, an acknowledgement of Walker's words. "I'm ready for this to be over."

It took all his self-control to concentrate on the crowds, but he kept wanting to peel off his watch and stare at the scar like he had for hours a year ago, when the memories of bowing his head into his shaking hands while Walker had tried to comfort him kept flickering behind his eyes. It took all his self-control to concentrate on the sounds of people around him, but his thoughts kept drifting to the pitiful sobs that Chris had released against his shoulder when he'd had to leave for his shift this morning. There was nothing he'd been able to say to reassure his son and there was nothing he could say to reassure himself. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to be this close to where the carnage had swept through a year ago, and he knew his son was terrified that another wave of water would hit LA today and wash him away the same as Shannon.

"Halfway over," Walker acknowledged.

It was cold comfort.

By the time his half-shift was due to conclude, Eddie was ready to scratch off his skin in the desperation he felt to get home to his son. The crowds had thinned, the bulk of the services were over, and some of the solemn silence that had been so unnerving all morning had evaporated. It was almost comforting to hear the chatter around him return along with the giggles of children, the honk of horns, the rumble of traffic gradually returning as some of the roadblocks around the area were removed.

"Diaz?"

He looked towards Walker, who nodded at Polson approaching. He wasn't exactly thrilled to see her but in the month since George's death, he'd had to let it go if he wanted to continue to do his job.

"You're in charge," he told Walker, bumping their fists together. "Don't screw up my squad."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Walker shooed him away and Eddie wasted little time, nodding his head in acknowledgement at Polson as they traded places and Eddie climbed into the waiting squad car.

By the time he'd returned to Headquarters, he'd loosened several straps on his gear. He was ready to swap out of his gear and into civilian clothes, to go home and cuddle his son in his lap. HQ was quiet, most teams out on patrol in case a call came through. He gathered his personal phone and backpack from his locker and was back in his car within five minutes.

Somewhere during his drive home, the control over his emotions began to loosen and the tears started. Despite the traffic swarming around him, he had to pull over and cover his face with his trembling hands. Stuttered breaths passed his lips, tears splashing across his cheeks and palms as he remembered the devastating pain that had coursed through him twelve months ago, as he remembered the terror of watching the Mark fade and scar, as he realised he didn't know where his son or wife were but they were clearly in the middle of everything that had made his shift go to hell.

The Mark at his shoulder erupted with a heartbeat that wasn't his, and he felt the ghostly brush of a hand against the back of his neck that wasn't really there. He sniffed, touching at his neck like he could lace his fingers through another set, and suspected the echo of how he felt was travelling through another.

He used the comforting sensations to drag him back from the brink, as an anchor in a storm, and returned to the road once he had enough control and clear vision to do so. Would it ever stop hurting? Would it ever stop feeling like he was being ripped apart?

Buck was descending the stairs as he parked the car in the driveway, wrapping him into a hug before he'd even shut the car door. Tears prickled his eyes again as he clung to Buck, gripping the backs of his shoulders as he fought to inhale and exhale calmly.

"Daddy?"

He sniffed, covering up the emotional turmoil as best as he could with a smile past Buck's shoulder at Chris waiting on the porch. "Hey, mijo. How have you been?"

Chris' attempt at a smile wobbled. "I missed you."

Eddie kissed Buck's cheek and let go, stepping around him to move up the stairs. As he scooped Chris into his arms, his kid's legs around his stomach and arms around his neck, he heard the car door shut behind him.

"I missed you too, baby," he whispered, nosing kisses to Chris' cheeks and hair as he carried him into the house. He could hear Buck following them through to the living room and he settled on the couch with enough room for Buck to sit beside them.

"Was work okay?" Chris said while Eddie trailed a hand down his back. He leaned into Buck folding an arm around his shoulders, released something close to a sign when Buck kissed his forehead.

"I thought about you the whole time," he says, a small increase of pressure against Buck's shoulder even as he watched his son's drifting hazel eyes. Some sort of shy smile crossed his lips when Buck's fingers rubbed the back of his neck like the ghostly sensation he'd felt during the drive. He shot Buck a look and Buck quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I take it that it worked?"

"What worked?"

Eddie hesitated between looking at Buck and Chris, unsure how to ever explain the depths of the Marks to his son and not freak him out. Eddie could clearly remember how freaked out he'd felt when he was younger and he'd realised his Abuela and Abuelo could have their own private conversations above his head.

"I just missed you two a whole lot," Eddie said eventually, cuddling under Buck's arm and hugging Chris against him. He hummed a little when Chris's fingers wound into Buck's shirt, realising that they'd formed a new sort of family because the strength of the Marks was so strong. The warmth and safety and love that flowed beneath his skin was almost enough to keep the cold and sadness and despair at bay.

* * *

"Do you think Chris could climb a rock wall?" Buck asked as he swirled the beaten eggs in a pan, scraping them with a spatula to avoid them sticking as he made scrambled eggs.

Eddie looked across from where he was hovering over the toaster. Buck's stupid thing tended to undercook the bread or turn it into charcoal in the span of seconds. "I've never taken him."

"Do you want to?"

He poked the _Cancel_ button and the toast popped, maybe a little underdone but preferable to the blackened soot that had been spat out last week. It turned into a good excuse to delay answering Buck's question as he ruminated on the possibilities while spreading butter across the slices. He never wanted to restrict or deny his son the opportunity to do anything. At the same time, he didn't want Chris to get excited about something it might turn out he really struggled with.

"I can ask him after my shift," he conceded eventually, glancing across at Buck who flashed him a wink and wiggled his ass like he hadn't been teasing Eddie with it all morning.

As Buck crossed towards the coffee pot, Eddie tugged him into a kiss and wondered if he was allowed to feel this happy.

* * *

Chris was almost vibrating with excitement as he entered the climbing gym, his wide eyes sweeping around the room at the dangling ropes and coloured blocks on the walls. Eddie still felt uncertain but was covering it as best as he could with enthusiasm. Buck, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease as he lifted Chris onto his shoulders and started carrying him around to explain how climbing worked, and showing him some of the different grips on the walls, and how the harnesses would keep Chris safe so he wouldn't fall and hurt himself.

"I thought we'd start with this one because the wall is small and the grips are larger and easier," Buck explained, lowering Chris to his feet and pointing out different parts to hold onto and ways to use his arms to pull and legs to push so he could climb up the wall.

Eddie didn't exactly feel _useless_ but he did feel like Buck had this handled, and it was strange to realise just how comfortable and confident Buck was in talking to Chris and teaching him what to do. He loved Buck a little more for the connection he'd made with his son, and he could tell Chris was rapt because his scrunching fingers showed how desperate he was to start climbing the coloured wall. Still, he felt like he was being overprotective and far too anxious that Chris was going to get injured, even though he knew Buck was more than capable of taking Chris' weight on a rope as he climbed. Buck could probably haul Chris all the way to the top without much effort.

Buck helped Chris into a harness and started explaining how the ropes worked to anchor him, so Eddie wandered away to find something that could distract him from his nerves. There was a room off to one side, hidden by some of the walls, and when he peered into it, he could see a series of what looked like rope slings hanging from the ceiling. He frowned, wondering if Buck would know what it was, and then kept exploring.

By the time he'd done a circuit around the gym and returned to Chris and Buck, Chris was slowly manoeuvring his way up the wall and Buck was gently taking the slack from the rope and encouraging him. He hadn't made it far – maybe two feet off the ground – but his grin was enormous when he saw Eddie had returned.

"Look, Dad! I'm so high!"

Eddie could still kiss the top of his head without needing to lift onto his tiptoes but he didn't, some of the fears inside his chest lessening as he met Buck's reassuring gaze.

"Yeah, you are!" he said, shifting to stand beside Buck and wrapping an arm around his back, fingers drawing circles against the curve of Buck's spine. "How high are you gonna climb?"

"All the way to the top!" Chris insisted and wobbled upwards to grip another handle.

Buck didn't look like it was much of a strain for him to take Chris' weight as he gradually ascended the wall, and he seemed so pleased with himself that Eddie kissed his temple and then returned his attention to his son.

"What was that for?" Buck murmured, cheeks dimpling around a smile as he tightened the rope a little more at his waist.

"You've made him happy," Eddie said simply, realising he was hopelessly smitten and not sure if he even cared. Seeing Chris smile and laugh again had given him some hope that they could find a way out of the darkness that had been left behind after Shannon's death, together.

A little over halfway up the wall, Eddie noticed Chris hadn't moved for at least a minute. There was a clear grip up and to the right but he seemed to be wavering and Eddie immediately started thinking this was a terrible idea. Buck brushed a hand against his arm, which helped settle at least some of the anxious twisting behind his heart.

"Mijo?"

"Am- A-Am I really high up?"

Eddie frowned and checked that Buck had the ropes secured. Buck nodded at him, tilting his head to how he had the line thoroughly hooked at his waist and reassuring him that Chris wasn't going anywhere. He inched until he was standing closer to the wall and standing beneath Chris, in his eyeline if he peered past his tummy. "You're almost halfway, bud. Why? What's wrong?"

"I… I've never been this high up before," Chris admitted, his voice small, and Eddie wondered if his son had a fear of heights that had never been discovered until now. And this was a really, really bad time to discover it.

"Do you want to come down?" he said, his overprotective father instinct kicking in as he started assessing the wall and whether he could free-climb it to prise his kid's hands away and get him to safety.

"N-No." Chris' voice wavered so much that it didn't inspire a hell of a lot of confidence in Eddie's stressed heart. "I wanna reach the top, Dad. I wanna prove I can- can do it."

"Then keep going, champ," Buck said, his voice gentle and drawing both Eddie and Chris' eyes towards him. He shrugged when he glanced at Eddie, his face calm, before looking skywards again. "You want to reach the top? Then go for it. Grab that grip to the right and keep going. You're safe and I won't let you fall, alright? I'll never let you fall, kiddo. I promise I've got you."

"You _promise_ promise?"

"Cross my heart, champ." Buck lifted his left hand and made an exaggerated swipe over his chest. "Besides, your dad is right below you so he'll catch you while you squash him."

Eddie shot Buck a look of fond exasperation. The blond grinned, flashing him a wink, and gave a thumbs up to Chris. And Chris was at least making soft giggling noises now.

"You got this, Chris! I believe in you."

Chris started moving again with Buck's reassurance, and he was painstakingly slow, and Eddie knew heart was in his throat as he watched Chris get higher and higher and higher, his arm around Buck's back as if he could somehow help take the weight of his son. And then Chris was squealing, and for a beat Eddie thought he'd slipped and he was terrified, but then the thumping heartbeat in his ears made it clear his son was absolutely delighted because his hands were brushing the ceiling. Tears of pride prickled his eyes as Eddie watched Chris squirm against the wall in delight.

"You're a superstar, Christopher Diaz," Buck announced and Eddie could have kissed him within an inch of his life, right then and there in the middle of the climbing gym.

"I did it, Dad!"

"I can see that, Chris! You're awesome!"

Chris peered downwards with a huge grin on his face, one Eddie hadn't seen in a long time. "Do I have to climb down now?"

Eddie looked at Buck, who hesitated. Clearly the dismount hadn't been thoroughly explained. "This is… This is the scary part, bud. You need to let go of the wall."

"I need to _what_?"

Buck winced at Chris' shrill tone. "You let go. I've got the ropes. Remember I showed you how they work before? They're tight now because you're up high and if I gradually let it out, you'll come down."

"B-But I- I don't wanna slam into the ground…" Chris said, his joyous words of before sliding towards despair. The crackle of what sounded like tears was absolutely breaking Eddie's heart again.

"Why do you think you're going to slam into the ground, buddy?" Buck asked, tugging at Eddie's arm to stay calm when he was absolutely on the verge of climbing up the wall without a rope to protect his kid.

"Because I- I'll fall and- and it's- it's a really long way down, Buck."

"You want me to tell you a secret, Chris?" Buck began, a cheeky smile on his face as he looked at Eddie. "I've got more muscles than your dad and I know I could get him to the ground without hurting him. Cross my heart that I promise I'll get you down without you getting hurt, okay? I know it's scary but we can do this, together."

Chris still sounded like he was about to start sobbing but his tone indicated he'd resigned himself to what he needed to do. "O-Okay. I- I'm letting go now. Are y-you ready?"

"I'm ready, Superman. You ready to fly?"

Chris released his grip and immediately started shrieking in fright, but Buck knew what he was doing and Chris descended to the floor in a slow and smooth release. Some of the terror in Chris' sounds faded when he began to realise it _was_ like flying, using his feet to push away from the wall a little and extending his arms like a plane when Buck suggested it. By the time he was low enough to fall into Buck's waiting arms, he was smiling again.

"I did it!" Chris giggled, clinging to Buck's shoulders while Buck smothered his face and hair in kisses.

Eddie blinked away his own tears and anxieties, wrapping his arms around the pair of boys. He dropped a kiss behind Buck's ear and rubbed a hand against Chris' curls.

"Told you that you're a superstar, Christopher Diaz," Buck murmured, rubbing Chris' back as some of the trembling of the adrenaline in his body reduced. Eddie just nuzzled at his son's shoulder, inhaling and exhaling until he felt like he was calmed by the fact Chris was safe, and okay, and unharmed, and didn't seem to be put off by the experience.

When he pulled away, Chris was wriggling with barely contained excitement. "Can we do it again?"

* * *

The experience at the climbing gym seemed to strengthen the developing bond between Chris and Buck, and Eddie quickly realised that he trusted Buck with his son. If a call went sideways, if a shift dragged longer than expected, then he had someone else he could call beyond Abuela and Carla to collect Chris from school. He updated the emergency contact list the next time he dropped Chris off, amazed at the transformation occurring in his kid because of the light that Buck had brought into their lives. He had never seemed to be negative about any limitations he might have – he couldn't run as fast as other kids, and he struggled going up and down stairs – but climbing the rock wall seemed to be showing him there was so much that he still _could_ do.

The climbing gym had also introduced Chris to other opportunities that Buck was only too happy to take him to – flying yoga, which explained all the strange slings in the room to the side, and acro-yoga.

At first, Eddie had thought they sounded like made-up activities. Chris had been babbling about seeing people flying and how fun it looked and could he try it next time? And Eddie had looked at Buck, who had shrugged and volunteered to take him.

Eddie had then spent the better part of the night after Chris had gone to bed Googling both and realising why his son would find flying yoga fun. Climbing the wall tired him out but his favourite part now was the descent, where he loved pretending to be a bird. Flying yoga, encased in a sling and stretching out his body, would probably be a good thing to keep building his muscle strength and tone and coordination, without exhausting him and leaving him sore and wobbly the following day.

> _r u sure about the acro yoga?_
> 
> _of course! We'll find something that's just a u+Chris thing b4 u get jealous_
> 
> _i'm not jealous  
>  i'm thrilled my son loves u so much_
> 
> _he loves u 2  
>  we both do_

Eddie dropped his phone on his face.

* * *

Their annual review was rapidly approaching and Eddie had made one sideways glance towards Walker and Nicholls to know they were thinking the same thing as him: Tandy.

Tandy had improved somewhat in his close combat skills, where he could disarm Nicholls and Anders now, but he still struggled with shifting his body weight enough to tackle someone, to adapt his positioning if a suspect didn't move the way that Tandy had prepared. While Eddie hung over the ropes and called suggestions to Tandy while he circled Anders, it occurred to him he had a better solution.

Athena's eyes narrowed when he made the suggestion, her lips pursing as she looked him up and down. "You know Buck would be good for this?"

It was a difficult feat not to start fidgeting under her gaze. "Yes. I think it would be a real benefit to Tandy, and to the team."

Athena continued to stare at him for a long minute, perhaps trying to see beneath his shirt and identifying the Mark that stained his skin. "Very well," she conceded with a small wave of her fingers towards the door. "I'll make some calls."

Those calls were what led Buck to striding into HQ during Eddie's next shift, a duffle bag over his shoulder as he surveyed the layout of the building. Eddie kept his arms crossed over his chest, even though his fingers twitched against his bicep when Buck's gaze swept across the team and settled on Eddie with a faint smirk and an eyebrow twitch. Eddie was _absolutely_ going to remind him that those sorts of looks had been outright banned in the carefully constructed rules he'd had to establish for this to work without giving everything away. Eddie already knew Walker had questions.

"So if there's anything I can teach you, it's that you have to throw out the rulebook and play to your instincts," Buck announced, discarding his duffle to the floor by the mats and unzipping his hoodie. He shrugged the fabric off and revealed the black tank top beneath, revealing the array of pale pink Marks along each arm and the blackened Mark on his shoulder. Eddie felt Walker shift beside him and heard the low whistle of Nicholls and tried not to smack him over the head, but, if he'd heard it, Buck looked unfazed by the reaction. Instead, he seemed to stand a little taller, shoulders squared rather than curled with shame, and surveyed each of them. "You." He pointed at Nicholls, and maybe he _had_ heard the whistle. "Let's go."

As their most experienced member, Eddie knew Nicholls was formidable and it was why he'd set him up with Tandy. Eddie hadn't told Buck anything about the team other than he needed help with some training drills, so perhaps Buck had sized up each of them and decided that Nicholls was the best target to start with. Eddie had made it clear last night that he and Buck needed to not get too close or handsy in a spar otherwise he'd end up doing something awkward or embarrassing, like leaning in to kiss him.

"And that's a problem, _why_ , exactly?" Buck had mumbled with a teasing grin and a kiss to his lips.

Buck and Nicholls circled each other for several minutes. Buck kept his hands low, in contradiction to most training, and there was absolutely nothing in his face or eyes to betray his thoughts. It was clear Nicholls was unsettled by the behaviour, even in only a few minutes of silence, and then he made a lunge towards Buck's head.

Buck twisted out of the way, leg catching behind Nicholls' knees and he crashed to the ground with a loud, " _Oof!_ ". Eddie winced and Walker grunted in sympathy, while Tandy seemed to bounce a little on the balls of his feet when he realised someone _could_ take Nicholls down. Which, Eddie supposed, was the whole point of the exercise. If Tandy could realise _that_ , then maybe he could learn _how_ and start doing it out on the streets.

Nicholls returned to his feet and tried again, and again, and again, but every time Buck managed to find a counter-move that brought him to his knees, or he fell on his ass, or his arm was pinned in such an awkward angle that he had to call it. Buck grinned like a Cheshire cat, a thin shimmer of sweat making his pink Marks glitter and Eddie fought the urge to approach him and run his fingers over the muscles.

"Your training manual is _so_ outdated," Buck said with an exasperated roll of his eyes while Nicholls rubbed his shoulder and swapped with Tandy. He didn't even look tired, whereas Nicholls looked spent. Eddie snorted at the reference and Buck shot him a grin, and Eddie hoped to God that Walker hadn't caught it.

Athena ventured out of her office halfway through Buck's session, which had been established for Tandy's benefit. She surveyed some of Buck's movements, silently observing the way he demonstrated his actions in slow-motion to Tandy and then the way to counter it in equally slow motion. Tandy nodded his understanding and they tried it with more speed, where Buck allowed Tandy the opportunity to take him to the mat. Eddie knew Buck would have to be bruised tomorrow or the day after, but Tandy seemed to be increasingly brimming with confidence and there was a glimmer in his eyes that he could do this. For that alone, Eddie was willing to buy all the ice baths that Buck needed.

"Your boy is good," Athena said with a single nod as she stood by Eddie's side. His head snapped towards her in surprise or shock or horror that she'd- "I was beginning to give up on Tandy and was going to recommend he return to patrol after his review, but Buck's done well. Do you think he'll continue training the kid?"

Eddie swallowed, not entirely certain about placing a member of his squad in the regular vicinity of someone who shared his Mark, but he couldn't deny Athena anything without raising suspicions. "I'll talk to Buck about it when he's finished."

* * *

His 'talk' to Buck may have taken place the following day, at Buck's apartment, when they were both naked and shifting among tangled sheets. True to expectations, Buck was speckled in a variety of bruises against his shoulders and hips and legs, and Eddie had taken his time to kiss every blossom of colour until Buck was trembling and pleading beneath him.

"I wish you could've seen how hot you were yesterday," he muttered, palms pressing into Buck's chest as he rolled his hips up and down, shuddering at the feel of Buck's cock deep within him. He'd thought this would go differently, thought that he wanted to take that big body and turn it into putty beneath his hands, but once he'd shown up at Buck's apartment in the early hours after clocking off his shift, he'd changed his mind. He'd spent so much time watching Buck pinning and flipping everyone else that he decided he wanted to pin Buck in place with his hips.

"I wish you could s-see how hot you are now," Buck whimpered, hands clasping at Eddie's waist to guide his movements. "God, E-Eds… You're killing m-me here."

He licked his lips and gazed into those inky eyes beneath him, faint sparkles of sleep still lining the edges because he knew Buck must've only gotten away from the bar a few hours ago. This was undeniably a booty call. "I know you know how to get what you want," he challenged and Buck blinked at him as he processed the words, chest rising, falling, rising again.

And then his world was turning fast, a whirl of colour and light and stifled sounds before he was sighing into Buck's embrace as his back hit the mattress. _This_ was why he'd insisted Buck not come near him at HQ, because he wasn't an exhibitionist but Buck's hands, Buck's raw strength, drove him wild. He moaned as Buck's tongue thrust into his mouth, as the rocking of Buck's hips turned sharper. Buck's hands found his, pinning them above his head, forcing him into surrendering until he wasn't able to think about anything else, and he decided that Buck could train Tandy as much as he wanted as long as Eddie got to watch if this happened after

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooft....... 😍😍😍
> 
> Buck bonding with Chris - be still my heart!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Word Count:** 3,769  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

 **Warnings:** There is some explicit sexual content in this chapter.

* * *

Buck suggested it late one evening, right before Chris was meant to go to bed, and Chris had promptly woken up again and started rattling off ideas with Buck.

Although Eddie was frustrated at how quickly his son could be stirred to wakefulness and excitement which would make waking up in the morning awful, he couldn't begrudge the animated conversation taking place between Chris and Buck as they brainstormed different items to put inside a time capsule to bury in the backyard. His fingers drifted through the tangles of Chris' hair, his best attempt at keeping Chris settled before he got so amped up he couldn't sleep, and watched as the abstract idea blossomed into a full-fledged project.

For a week, Chris kept disappearing into his room to draw or write letters to himself to put in the capsule. Eddie would lean against the doorframe from time to time, checking that his son was okay, and Chris would shoo him away and insist he was doing "very important stuff". He'd snapped a photo one time when Chris was so immersed he hadn't even noticed Eddie watching him, sending it to Buck to show that even if he wasn't there at the house, Chris was fully committed to the idea.

> _what r u going 2 put in it?_

It was a good question, and one that had been bothering him since the whole idea had started. Eddie didn't _have_ many possessions that mattered enough to bury in the ground and unearth in a decade or two to laugh over. He'd drifted around the house, wondering about this photo or that book before dismissing most of the ideas as stupid.

> _i dont know_

It was Buck who'd suggested finding a shirt that Chris didn't wear often, might not even notice was missing, to use for the project. Intrigued, Eddie had gone through Chris' drawers when he was at school and dug to the back, finding a faded blue shirt that probably would barely fit him now anyway. He tucked it into a bag and took it with him to his shift, his concentration split between the warrants he had to execute, the cases he had to intervene in, the plans he had to make, the interviews he had to conduct, and the promise of escaping to Buck's apartment after the shift to work on whatever idea Buck had. He wouldn't say he was _distracted_ while he worked – he was more than capable of hyper-focusing when it was required of him – but knowing he got to see Buck after everything was done? It made the long shifts easier to handle.

"I still know you're different," Walker muttered as he brushed past Eddie at the end of the shift, something glinting in his eyes as he observed Eddie.

"Am I?" he retorted, smirking when Walker growled and fell into step with him on the walk out.

"You know I just worry about you." Walker bumped their shoulders together. "I just want to know you're okay."

And, really, Eddie was touched by the concern and the care and he probably needed to do better by his friend that he hadn't hung out with outside of work in months because so much of his life had been taken over by Buck, and Chris, and Buck and Chris.

"I'm okay." He offered a smile that he hoped was genuine and reassuring, because he really did feel okay. He was going to see Buck and there'd almost certainly be laughter, and teasing, and kisses that made his toes curl. It was impossible to stay in a funk around the other man. "Honestly, Si. I'm really, really good."

Walker still looked like he was examining him too closely, placing every expression of Eddie's under a microscope, and for once Eddie almost cursed their training. They were all versed in analysing suspects, reading faces and intonations to determine when situations were about to turn dire. Right now, that training was almost certainly biting him in the ass. He needed to escape.

"See you next shift," he said with the calmest nod that he could, climbing into his truck to drive away from HQ.

Like every time he knew he was going to see Buck, his stomach fluttered with exhilaration and nerves. It seemed as though the closer he got, the more Fate allowed them to trade emotional connections or some sort of physical touch through the bond tying them together. He'd discovered during the week that if he let himself sink into the couch and try to clear his mind of the stresses of the day, that he could somehow almost _float_ to the point of hearing the buzz of the bar patrons, and the clink of bottles, and see shadowy patches of rainbow lights across his walls which definitely weren't there. He'd blinked hard, sitting up straighter, and the sounds and sights had vanished – but he knew it hadn't just been his imagination. He knew he'd managed to feel parts of Buck's psyche at the edge of his awareness.

It was why, perhaps, Buck knew the exact moment to open his apartment door right before Eddie's hand lowered to knock against the timber and how Buck knew that after some shifts he needed a hug and other shifts he could press a kiss to Eddie's lips.

"Hey." He nuzzled into Buck's arms, brushing a kiss to the hinge of his jaw and inhaling the safety and security that surrounded him.

"Hi. Did you bring a shirt?"

He nodded, trading a chaste kiss as Buck led him into his apartment and towards the large kitchen island. It was covered with newspaper with at least a dozen markers spread across the countertop, along with plastic containers of different coloured paints. His eyebrow rose as he took it in and then turned to Buck expectantly.

"I thought we could decorate the shirt. Write messages on it. Paint shapes or put our handprints on it. Stuff like that. When he unearths the capsule, he'll see how small he once was and how much we both care about him."

Eddie blinked, his heart swelling again around how much love and affection he had for Buck, how easily this man had accepted Chris into his life and made him feel like he could do anything. His throat knotted with some of the emotions that ballooned inside him and all he could do was nod at the idea and lift his bag to the counter to dig out the shirt.

Buck placed a piece of cardboard between the shirt to avoid any pen or paint leaking through to the other side and then they took turns scribing messages on the fabric, not using too much space in preference for adding the paints. Buck's tended to consist of a lot of _SUPERSTAR_ and _CHAMPION_ and _KING OF THE UNIVERSE_ while Eddie found it comforting to simply write _I love you_ and _Te quiero_ in random places in different colours. Then Buck took off his own shirt and Eddie forgot what he'd been writing.

"What?" Buck said, eyebrows rising to attempt an innocent sort of expression on his face. "I don't want my clothes getting covered in paint."

Eddie's throat tightened for entirely different reasons when Buck stripped out of his jeans, standing beside him in merely tight blue boxer-briefs. The pale pink Marks shimmered under his kitchen lights, the contrast with the black tattoo lines making Eddie want to reach out and touch something else entirely. It was utterly indecent of Buck to look like _that_ while they worked on a project for his son.

"You should take off yours too, unless you don't care about paint on your clothes or in your truck," Buck pointed out and Eddie wondered if this had been Buck's plan all along. There was a mischievous glittering in Buck's eyes as Eddie unbuttoned his shirt and then removed his black pants, folding both and setting them on top of his bag by the door. "And now we can paint the shirt," Buck said with a shrug, like he wasn't practically nude and it wasn't doing all sorts of things to Eddie's head to stand beside him wearing so little.

Buck started with placing his hand in the yellow paint and putting a print on the left side of the shirt followed by dipping his index finger in the red to draw a heart that started to turn faintly orange. Eddie touched his fingers to the green, the cool sensation of the paint at odds with how hot his skin felt as he dragged the fingers across the tummy section which reminded him of when Carla had dressed Chris as Wolverine for Halloween. Buck began on a yellow sunflower and Eddie added some stems, using the pale colour of the shirt for clouds as he outlined a rough sky above.

It was more fun than the drawing classes, Buck pointing out places he could add another stripe of colour or Eddie making a suggestion about a simple shape they could draw. The basic colours Buck had supplied gradually morphed on the shirt until there was purple and some pink, which allowed them to create a rainbow on one of the sleeves.

"We'll have to wait til it dries if we want to do the other side," Buck said when it was clear they'd covered the front of the shirt in a lot of paint. Eddie wasn't even sure how long it would take for the paint to dry.

"I should've brought another shirt of mine and you could've decorated it."

Buck hummed, fingers dipping into the red paint and then looking at Eddie. "Why do that when I could just decorate you?"

His eyes grew wide. " _No_."

Buck grinned. "No?"

Eddie inched away as Buck advanced on him, a laugh spilling from his lips when Buck caught his arm anyway and smeared red over his elbow. "You're serious?"

Buck shrugged. "Why not?"

Eddie darted around him, hand pressing into the blue paint and then planting it against Buck's chest. Buck was already reaching for the yellow, drawing lines across Eddie's shoulders.

"Am I meant to be a warrior?" he teased as Buck started adding jagged lines of green across his pecs.

"Sent forth into battle. My hero!" Buck mocked, holding a hand to his forehead like a swooning damsel as Eddie laughed and smeared some of the red down Buck's arm. It covered some of the Marks but he didn't pay much attention because he was already grabbing at Buck's waist with one red and one yellow hand and gradually covering his torso in paint.

There was a stripe of green across his abs and Buck was approaching him with some sort of purple concoction when he dragged Buck in for a kiss. He felt the sticky, cool mess of the paint splatter against the back of his neck and into his hair when Buck leaned into him, returning the kiss with just as much vigour. He was able to think for several seconds, shifting Buck until his back hit the counter and some of the paint on their stomachs mingled with how tightly they were pressed together, tongues dipping and tasting, teeth nipping at lower lips, and then Buck's hand grazed the Mark and his brain shorted.

"Not fair," he complained against Buck's lips once he could remember how to put words into something resembling coherency.

"So I _shouldn't_ do this?" Buck murmured, his other set of fingers toying with the elastic around Eddie's hips which made his breathing stutter.

Any attempt to lean back from Buck to catch his breath was thwarted by Buck's mouth at his neck, destroying any resolve he might've had. "Was this- W-Was this the plan all along?"

"No," Buck admitted, his hand slid beneath the elastic, still slightly slick with cool paint as it curved around Eddie's cock. He moaned, his grip against Buck's arm and waist faltering as he pressed into it before he could try to halt his hips. "But once you were basically naked beside me? How was I meant to keep my hands off you?"

He pushed the remaining bit of fabric off Buck's hips, lifting him onto the nearest counter, any sort of coherency gone when Buck shoved at his underwear and drew their bodies together again with his legs cinching around Eddie's waist. "You're a mess," he mumbled when he could feel the smears of paint between them, tracing Buck's bottom lip with his tongue. Buck whimpered and arched, making small thrusting motions with his hips in search of friction.

"I'm _your_ mess," Buck corrected, his eyes dark with unmistakable desire when they met Eddie's. Eddie, who could only marvel at how incredible this man really was, trailed his hands from Buck's waist over his thighs, fingers spreading beneath Buck's knee which made him jerk and hiss. " _Now_ who's not playing fair?"

He smirked, stroking where he knew the Mark was with more deliberate pressure, watching Buck's eyes roll in his head as gasped whines escaped his ruby lips. Hands clenched into his hair, against the back of his shoulder, and their hips rolled together in increasingly erratic motions as they traded breathless attempts at kisses, using the touching of the Marks more than anything else to stoke the flames in their blood, to push each other to the brink.

It was when Buck's head tipped backwards and Eddie scratched his nail against the Mark behind his knee that Buck finally came, a desperate groan as his body quivered in Eddie's hold. Heat splashed between them, making the mess of all the paint worse, and Eddie licked and nipped at Buck's exposed neck as he enjoyed the sight of Buck falling apart against him.

"F-Fuck, Eddie," Buck muttered, sagging into Eddie's hold even as Eddie kept rocking his hips slowly for the friction but without the pace required for him to orgasm. "Fuck, that was- Y-You didn't even h-have to t-touch me."

If Eddie didn't feel like all the blood had pooled south and he had nothing left in his brain to construct a sentence, he might've worked out some proud way to sass a reply. As it was, Buck seemed to realise he was still hard and one hand secured around his aching cock, the other rubbing at the Mark. His knees nearly buckled at the sensations that slammed into him and he almost certainly forgot how to breathe when Buck found some sort of persistent rhythm of pulling one hand away from his cock while the other dug into his Mark, and then the pressure against the Mark decreased as the grip on his cock increased. It was too much and even if he'd wanted to last longer, even if he'd wanted to try to hold off, using the Mark like that made it impossible.

He clung to Buck's skin as he came between them, shuddering gasps against the sweaty, multicoloured neck. Buck kept jerking his hand, like he was wringing every last drop from Eddie's system, and he was spent and oversensitive by the time Buck stopped. He thought his knees might've locked into that position to keep him upright, although Buck's legs around his waist probably helped to hold him up too.

"So… We should probably shower," Buck said, his tone laced with a thoughtful innocence that Eddie didn't buy for a second but couldn't articulate because he still felt like his brain had lost the ability to form words and it certainly didn't know how to construct sentences. "And then my counters and floor will probably need cleaning."

"Your fault." His words were muffled against Buck's neck, which was almost certainly staining his face with paint, but the intention behind his words was still clear.

"Babe, I am not the _least_ bit disappointed by that. Are you?"

And Eddie… He really couldn't argue so he simply kissed Buck with every remaining bit of energy he had left and lifted him off the counter so they could shower.

* * *

With the overlap of shifts, they'd planned to bury the capsule in a couple of days when Buck could stay overnight and they could 'camp' outside while doing it. Eddie had a twenty-four hour shift the next day so Buck had been over that afternoon, helping Chris shove memories and mementos inside the plastic tube.

Eddie had already seen one of Chris' Ninja Turtles and several pieces of Lego disappear inside, along with several photos of the three of them that Buck must have printed. There'd been a woven bracelet with their favourite colours, something Buck had taught Chris how to make on one of the days that he'd picked Chris up from school – the dusky pink, navy blue and red overlapping with only a couple of minor errors. Eddie had glimpsed what looked to be the numbers from Buck's shirt on the Colour Run, and then a series of folded letters that Chris had told them they needed to write which gave their predictions or hopes for the future. Chris and Buck had refused to share the content of their letters but Eddie's had been simple: _I hope to be this happy for the rest of my life._

Now that Buck had left for his shift and Chris was in bed, Eddie was staring at the ceiling and sipping his beer and wondering if he could bring himself to bury some of the ghosts of the past and precious, though terrible, sketches from his present. He kept drifting to thoughts about how he or Chris would feel if the capsule was unearthed in ten years' time and these sorts of items were revealed. He couldn't tell if it would inflict more pain across his scarred heart or, perhaps, it was the sort of cathartic release that perhaps he needed.

His phone buzzed and he bit his lip at the message across the screen: _do it_.

It should unnerve him that Buck was able to feel his emotions and send him a message in the middle of a shift to spur him into action.

He peeled himself off the couch and padded into his bedroom, ruffling through some drawers until he found the box tucked at the back of his shirts. It hurt to find it again, hurt to prise open the lid of the box and examine the platinum ring that was engraved with the date of his wedding to Shannon more than a decade ago. A solitary tear trailed down his cheek as he closed the drawer and then moved to the closet where he'd hidden the sketchbook. He found a couple of sketches of Buck's tattoos and arms which weren't as awful as the others and tore out the pages, folding them into small pieces to stow inside the capsule too.

He jotted down the salsa recipe that Chris had liked the most and included that, his heart aching a little less as he pressed each item into the capsule and then resumed his place on the couch. The beer did little to dull the pain but when his phone buzzed again and he looked at the message, the edge of his lips twitched into the faintest of smiles and some of the sick churning in his gut lessened.

> _love u_

* * *

It had been a quiet shift where Eddie had already hit the gym twice, showed Tandy some other moves to escape particular holds that Buck had recommended teaching, and then they'd all bent over a series of maps to determine escape routes in a take-down next shift. One of Anders' CIs had provided intel that a leader of a Mexican drug cartel was due there within the next week to negotiate a new supply route, so the LAPD had undercover squads sitting on the house and drones circling the area to track traffic.

"We need to have this blocked off," Nicholls said, tapping at one of the cross-streets. If their target or any goons escaped through the back, there was a complicated series of alleys that would all spill towards two locations. "If we have a team at these two locations and breach from the front, we'll either take them out or catch everyone who escapes like rats from a sinking ship."

"The city wants Martinez alive," Walker reminded, placing small X marks on the page where Nicholls had identified.

"Why? For a showy trial? For an escape attempt? He's not worth the effort."

Walker rolled his eyes and Eddie was halfway to reminding him they had their orders to follow when Athena came charging into the situation room.

"Active shooting downtown," she announced, and Tandy swept the maps into a pile to discard to another table. Eddie met Walker's eyes and everyone straightened as she swiped at a screen to patch the call through. "Go."

"Reports of a...a hostage situation," a voice on the other end of the line said. Eddie frowned, faintly recognising the voice but struggling to place it when it was small and quiet and sad. "A few managed to escape to raise the alarm but they, uh… They reported shots fired. We don't know if there are any casualties. We've dispatched all available patrol units but they've requested SWAT backup due to the ongoing hostage situation."

Eddie's gaze swept from Walker to Nicholls to Tandy, feeling his stomach twist into knots. Walking into these sorts of calls always had so many variables and most of them were bad.

Athena nodded, her hand already moving back to the screen to end the call. "Thanks, Maddie."

He blinked, hand catching at Athena's to stop her tapping the screen. " _Maddie_?"

"H-Hi, Eddie." Her voice was different to when he'd met her at Athena's party but he recognised her voice now. He'd heard it in the background of some of Buck's calls, but he wasn't sure he'd ever heard her sound so broken. "Please be safe."

He met Athena's eyes, something glittering in their depths that he didn't like. His heart was beating slowly, almost unnaturally slowly. "I will."

Athena finally ended the call, looking at each of them in an excruciatingly long thirty seconds of silence while they digested the news, mentally started rallying equipment to collect.

"We know what these calls are like," she said slowly, looking at each of them. "We know how they end. Let's try to do better than the norm."

"Where's the location?" Tandy said and her gaze flicked to him before settling on Eddie.

"A bar called Everaces."

The single word made him think the floor might've fallen from beneath his feet.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To distract you all from how much you all want to kill me, I present [a distraction](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGTcFZaDHTs&ab_channel=vixen13). I'd already written the scene of getting covered in paint but then somewhere along the line, someone linked me this vid from Skam France with Lucas and Eliott and it makes rather the nice visual.
> 
> Now, uh... I don't know how I keep having all my fics finish with cliffhangers that make me flee but um.... We're gonna go back to hiding in that bunker now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Word Count:** 6,266  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

Eddie stared at the array of screens, hands curling and uncurling as he listened to ranked officers behind him engage in the age-old debate of breaching or negotiating. Tandy had drilled through a wall to feed a fiber-optic wire inside, wiggling it from side to side to confirm three hostiles spread throughout the bar. Anders had set up the heat sensing cameras so they were able to track the trio's movements. There was always one by the front door, and one near the rear that led to the storeroom. Those two seemed to swap back and forth, poking at cowering victims on the floor. The third seemed to pace aimlessly, always on the move. All three wore masks and, as yet, no one had determined a motive. There'd been no ransom demands, and that only made the situation more dire.

Between Tandy's vision and the colouring from Anders' cameras, estimates had been made about the semi-automatic rifles strapped across each chest. All seemed to be average height and weight, skin covered from any distinguishing marks or features. Nicholls had been calling in favours for surrounding footage to track vehicle movements to determine an origin and hope that somewhere they'd slipped, which would allow facial rec or searching a tattoo or Marks database. Walker had direct eyes on the front of the building, in constant communication with the patrol officers who had taken up defensive positions behind their vehicles.

Eddie knew all of that was happening, knew his team had their assignments and were exemplary in carrying them out. But Eddie only had eyes for one thing, one person. He'd tried texting Buck before they rolled out but wasn't surprised when there hadn't been a response. It had been devastating, a stabbing pain behind his chest, but unsurprising. He'd already texted Carla and Abuela to coordinate caring for Chris because it was going to be either a long shift or a late shift, and no matter what happened he needed to have Buck to himself without Chris.

And despite all the intel they'd gathered from inside, Eddie still hadn't seen Buck to know where he was or if he was okay. Eddie was more than aware that Buck could take care of himself but he wasn't stupid enough to take on three without backup. Buck _had_ to know Eddie would be called, had to know he was nearby, and he'd more than proven that he knew the tactics of the LAPD in a situation like this. Eddie just hoped that meant Buck wasn't going to do something stupid. Every time Eddie tried to reach out through the Mark, he couldn't feel any significant pain. There was a dull sort of thrumming, something that seemed like anxiety, and he occasionally brushed a hand against his shoulder and tried to send some comfort through to Buck.

He needed Buck to remain calm so he wouldn't do something reckless, because the last thing they needed was the hostiles to start firing indiscriminately. They hadn't been able to determine if anyone was injured in the siege so they weren't sure what had been hit during those reports of 'shots fired'. All the footage was too grainy and Tandy's wire was too awkwardly located to provide a variety of angles.

"I just need to know you're okay," he whispered to the screens, willing Buck to appear somewhere, _anywhere_ , in the field of the camera's vision. Willing Buck to give him _something_ that showed he was okay. Raise his hand, his head, his right foot. _Anything_.

"If you wanted to negotiate, you would not have called in SWAT to make tactical plans to breach and waste the time of my team and those hostages," Athena snapped, drawing Eddie's eyes towards his Commander who was eyeballing one of the police chiefs.

Chief Huntley gazed at her and Eddie eyed the almost-foot of height difference that the Chief had on Athena. She had always been headstrong and brave, arguing for her teams and calling stupid decisions stupid. Still, he was impressed at her forthrightness in the face of a superior officer, both physically and in the chain of command. Maybe it was because she was used to standing next to Bobby that she'd learned how to raise herself higher, square her shoulders, and refuse to tolerate anyone else's shit when they attempted to intimidate her with their size.

"We cannot guarantee civilian safety or casualties," Huntley said, something surly in his brows, clearly too long off the front lines by his paunch, and Athena threw up her hands.

"We can _never_ provide guarantees but does that mean we don't _try_? You know as well as I do that if they'd wanted to negotiate, they would've called by now and made demands."

She had a point. It was nearly two hours since the first call had come in. Which meant it was two hours of radio silence where Eddie had been desperate for a sign that Buck was okay. Just as Buck had to know SWAT would be onsite, Buck had to know this was tearing Eddie apart.

"We try a non-violent approach first," Huntley insisted and Eddie withdrew from the monitoring van to find his team. Walker, Nicholls, Tandy and Anders each straightened as he approached. Further along the street, he could see Polson with a separate squad of waiting officers.

"Gear up?" Tandy said hopefully, as if they weren't already dressed to the hilt for any eventuality.

Eddie shook his head, rubbing a hand to the back of his shoulder, trying again to send some of his own calm and at the same time desperate for a sign in response. "Huntley wants to open the lines of negotiation first."

Nicholls rolled his eyes and Tandy huffed. Walker continued to stare at him through narrowed eyes, a clear calculation in his gaze. All of them seemed warier around him after he'd sagged into Walker's arms at HQ when Athena had announced the name of the bar, claiming a bad case of dizziness when too much blood had rushed into or out of his head. He knew Walker hadn't bought it, nor had Athena or Nicholls, but they'd been too polite or too focused on the task at hand to call his bluff and start demanding explanations.

He leaned against the truck and stared at the fragment of the bar that he could see past the monitoring van. The swirl of lights from various patrol cars cast a haunting glow across the façade, one that he couldn't look at for long. Except when he turned away, he was confronted by the line of officers behind the vehicles with their guns trained on the entrance. Further down the street, he could hear the clamour of reporters and eager onlookers straining at the roadblocks like this wasn't a traumatising situation for dozens of people. At least two helicopters kept rumbling overhead, no doubt broadcasting live to KTLA and some other station. Ordinarily Eddie could block most of it out and concentrate on devising scenarios, but ordinarily Eddie didn't have someone he loved on the other side of a call.

The worst part of any siege was the waiting.

Every second felt like an hour, and every hour felt like a week. He ached to know how Buck was and he was terrified of what might be going on inside. If it wasn't for his awareness of how much it hurt when you lost someone you loved, of the pain that pierced into your soul when they died and your Mark scarred, he'd almost start begging for someone to check his shoulder and check the Mark was still half-half.

"Should we scout locations?"

Eddie glanced towards Nicholls, already torn between the restless energy to breach and the terror of Buck being injured in the crossfire that was anchoring his feet to the ground. Losing Shannon had been agonising but he hadn't been given an opportunity to save her. She was simply _gone_ before he'd even realised she was in danger. This situation with Buck… He'd never faced anything like _this_ before.

"To breach? Sniper? Counter-attack? Perps escaping through the back?" He rubbed a hand over his face and stifled the sigh because he couldn't get any of his thoughts into coherent lines, couldn't make any firm decisions because every internal scenario he started to run included Buck getting hurt and that wasn't a scenario he wanted to occur. "Standing around is such a waste of our time."

"What's really going on, boss?" Tandy said, a frown drawing his brows together. Eddie arched an eyebrow at the kid because no one else would dare call him _that_. Tandy shrugged, looking contrite as he withered a little under Nicholls and Walker's glares. "I'm just saying he's not usually like this."

Nicholls elbowed Tandy to be quiet but Eddie knew Walker was paying attention, a small nod that seemed like he was glad Tandy had noticed too, a smirk at the edge of his lips while he observed Eddie squirm under the attention.

"You've got a person in there," Walker declared, and the other three went too still, surprised or disbelieving. Eddie looked at his friend with a denial staining his lips, but he couldn't find the words. Walker nodded, his smirk fading and his eyes gentling. "Hey. I'm sorry, man. You know we'll get them _all_ out safely, alright? That's what we do. Have you had visual confirmation of where your person is?"

Eddie thought it was remarkable how swiftly Simon could redirect the team's attention to the task at hand, settling some of Eddie's anxiety to remind him there was a job to do and people to save. Eddie couldn't be wholly distracted by his worries about Buck because it wasn't just Buck inside the bar. That much had been clear on the monitors.

"No." He swallowed, burying the emotions as best as he could. "He works behind the bar but the camera can't see behind it."

Walker nodded. "But it's likely he's there?"

"Impossible to know. He could just as easily have been serving a customer on the floor." Eddie hesitated, biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he debated how much to share, how much to tell the guys before everything started to unravel. It wasn't the time or the place. He didn't need them losing focus.

The team nodded and a thought he hadn't dared think occurred to Eddie. Did Athena know that Buck was inside? Did she even really _know_ Buck? How close was she to Buck if he was only tangentially connected to the 118? Yet the way she'd looked at him at HQ when Maddie was explaining the call…

"I need to see the Commander," he said, abruptly turning back to the van and climbing the steps.

Athena was examining the screens, arms crossed and chewing on a thumbnail as he approached. Chief Huntley was further along the vehicle, head bowed with a couple of people who were standing beside a phone and a laptop.

"Nothing's changed," she said with a dismissive wave towards the huddle at the back. He leaned against the counter beside her and swept his eyes over the situation inside the bar. Guy Number Three was still pacing and One and Two were still at the doors. At least a dozen heat signatures against the floor depicted a haze of bodies that were hoping and waiting and praying and crying.

"Maybe it has." He felt her eyes turn towards him and steeled himself against her possible reaction. "You, uh… You remember Buck? He gave Tandy some pointers? He, uh- He's inside."

"I know." He shouldn't have been surprised but he still turned to meet her stare. She cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed at his poor grasp of the situation. He could imagine her making more notes in her files about being too emotionally compromised to lead the team and giving Walker or Nicholls the opportunity to replace him. "You think Maddie didn't tell me her brother was inside before I brought the call down and patched her through?"

Oh.

 _Well_.

That made sense.

"The more important question is how _you_ know Evan Buckley well enough to know he's inside."

Oh.

 _Well_.

That was more complicated.

"It's…complicated," he said, his gaze wandering back towards the screen. He knew she was continuing to stare at him like a trapped bug and he was squirming almost as much as he had with Walker outside. "He's… We're… You ordered me to do something about my anger and I- I met Buck through that."

She grunted, looking at the screens like she was looking for answers too. Hell, maybe she was looking for Buck just like him. "I thought I told you _not_ to fight, Diaz."

"I'm not!" He held up his hands, knowing he'd had a bout with Buck before but that had been a one-time thing, so far, and she'd clearly misunderstood what he meant. "It's- I don't think he'd want me to share all of it, but we didn't meet through his gym."

"But you know _about_ his gym. You knew what he could do which is why you invited him to train Tandy. Just like you know that he's inside the bar _now_. So what aren't you telling me, Diaz? What did you neglect to mention when you invited Buck to Headquarters?"

He knew she was quickly assembling pieces of the puzzle and there wasn't a way to weasel out of an explanation with her. Not like Walker, who could accept his vague statements and uneasy deflections because as Team Leader he sometimes _had_ to conceal information. Concealing this from his Commander could get him not just thrown out as leader, but out of SWAT completely. It served no purpose to hide it, although he knew she'd replace him as soon as he opened his mouth.

"We're Marked," he said, circumventing a whole lot of other detailed explanations or attempted excuses by cutting to the chase. At the end of the day, that was what mattered most. She didn't need to know that they were dating, or that they'd slept together, or that Buck was meant to come over after Eddie's shift to camp in the backyard and bury a time capsule with Chris. She didn't need to know how much the other man had become an integral part of his entire world in the span of a few months. His eyes dropped towards the gear strapped across his chest, the weight of the rifle heavier than ever, and he heard Athena's sharp intake of breath.

"You should have told me this _before_ we rolled up, Diaz," she snapped, clearly unimpressed and he couldn't blame her, couldn't even try to protest her irritation.

"I know." His fingers danced over the M4 and he forced the lid shut on his feelings so that he could meet her eyes. "I can do my job, Commander. I did it during the tsunami and I can do it now."

She didn't seem as reassured as he'd hoped but she was often hard to read in the middle of a tense situation where she was being stonewalled from above. She'd talk if they were off-site or it was a barbecue at her house but now? Now she had to keep her game-face on at all times, ready to respond to any circumstance with more poise than Eddie currently felt.

"We follow the orders to the letter," she demanded, sticking him to the floor with her look. "If I have any doubts about your capacity to lead your team, you swap with Walker. If this goes sideways and the after-action report mentions this, it'll be a disaster for all of us. So we make sure this is a good outcome where you get Buck back and we don't have to process all the messy bits of the paperwork trail, alright?"

He had a feeling she was implying he keep the relationship to himself, at least for now, and he couldn't blame her. He suspected if Walker and Nicholls knew how involved he was with Buck, they'd storm the front door without a clear plan of action just to be part of the rescue squad.

"Alright." It wasn't as if he was going to argue with the hope that everyone made it out alive and in one piece. Especially when Buck was still inside. He glanced towards Chief Huntley and Athena caught the look.

"They're still calling, trying to talk them out." Her gaze returned to the monitors. "You should prepare your team, Diaz. I suspect they'll decide on a breach soon enough."

He could hear the dismissal for what it was and nodded sharply, departing the van and locating the guys. Their eyes lifted towards him and he gave a small gesture with his hand, making them all approach him.

"Time to scout."

They moved with practised ease around the containment perimeter, determining the number of visible doors – plus the one Eddie knew fed onto the alley – and windows. Eddie tried not to dwell on Buck's bike in the parking lot, confirming he had to be somewhere inside. Instead, he tried to listen to Walker's suggestion that they fire tear gas through the windows compared with Nicholls' plan which involved flashbangs. Tandy proposed a simultaneous breach from the front and rear doors with two squads.

Eddie listened to the discussions and calculated the dangers for the victims inside. Considering no one had been able to accurately determine how many were inside because too many of the heat signatures blended together, he hated the thought that anyone could be hurt. He desperately tried to keep his thoughts from straying to Buck, who would almost certainly recognise the signs of an impending breach. Would that spur Buck into action? If he were smart, Buck would stay where he was and let Eddie and his team clear the building as they were trained to do.

"I like the simultaneous breach," Eddie declared, drawing pairs of eyes towards him as he mulled over the pros and cons of the various approaches. "If we use flashbangs, I worry the perps will get jumpy and someone might get injured if there are twitchy fingers on triggers."

Nicholls tilted his head in consideration but didn't question the conclusions Eddie had made.

"Firing a few rounds of tear gas or pepper bullets before we breach might provide enough disorientation that they won't notice a team gathering in the alley, and then provide additional cover during a fast entry to effect a successful dual breach. We'll need to ensure teams outside are on standby to help the trapped victims as they will also suffer the effects of the gas."

Tandy, Anders and Walker nodded, and Nicholls' fingers brushed over the M4 on his chest. "Are we on front or rear?"

"Rear," Eddie said without needing to think about it. "I know my way through the building. We don't want to send in a team that blows the op because they're unfamiliar with the fact the rear door provides entry to a storeroom, and that they need to breach a secondary door to gain access to the bar."

Walker hummed, eyes flitting towards the other SWAT team on standby. "We need to organise someone to fire the ferret rounds through the glass when required."

"Ask Polson," Tandy said and everyone looked at him. He shrugged, looking at each of them like they were stupid. "She knows how we work. We know she's a good shot and we can trust her to take it."

The irony that Polson had been inadvertently responsible for bringing Eddie and Buck together at the bar and now Tandy was suggesting Polson fire a round _into_ said bar while Buck was inside was not lost on Eddie. Still, Tandy had a point.

Eddie's eyes flicked towards the monitoring van when he saw Athena emerge and descend the stairs followed by Chief Huntley. From the looks on their faces, he immediately knew it was approaching go time.

"Sergeant."

"Chief."

They shook hands and Eddie did his best to keep his face neutral. The last thing he needed was Huntley knowing the panic he felt for Buck and the concern about their potential plan. Any plan involved risk. It was natural to worry, he kept telling himself. Buck wasn't an idiot.

"Negotiations have stalled," Huntley announced as he released Eddie's hand. He cast his eyes over Walker, Nicholls, Tandy before settling on Eddie. "We would like to discuss a Plan B."

Eddie outlined the plan that the team had devised to Huntley and Athena, watching their exchange of glances to gauge how likely it was they'd get the green light.

"Have you considered flashbangs?" Athena said.

"We were concerned the perps might panic and civilians would be injured," Tandy reported, and Athena's nod indicated her approval that they had worked through a variety of options.

"Have you discussed this with a second team?" Huntley said and Eddie shook his head. "Do it, determine contingencies, and proceed to your agreed positions. We'll keep eyes on the screen and tell you when to move."

"Understood."

Huntley returned to the van and Athena reached for Eddie's arm, squeezing briefly, before she followed the Chief. Eddie cast one look at his team and they all nodded, understanding exactly what to do and the importance of preserving life.

Less than ten minutes later, the two teams were in position. Polson had a clear firing line for the main window. Tandy rigged an explosive charge against the lock on the back door and then returned to their waiting line, his hands cradling his rifle. Their comms were silent of extraneous chatter, waiting for the go signal, waiting for an urging from the van that they needed to breach. Eddie was conscious of the thump of his heartbeat in his ears and the shift of his gear when he breathed, the chill across his shoulders as he searched through his connection to Buck to tell him they were coming soon.

In the span of a few blinks, everything seemed to change.

There were a series of muffled shouts from inside, followed by several loud bangs and a lot of screaming. Eddie heard Athena commanding Alpha to go in his earpiece a split-second before Tandy pressed the trigger and the back door almost blew off the hinges. He took a step forward to enter the back room when there were another couple of bangs. A searing pain ripped through his leg, and he staggered into the doorframe, a sharp cry spilling from his lips. Walker's hand clenched around his arm, hauling him to his feet, pushing him through the door. It was difficult to think through the pain that sparked behind his eyes, a pain that was as familiar as it was terrifying. He stumbled through the storage room at the same time as Nicholls ordered Bravo Team to blast the front door.

There were more screams, louder this time after Eddie threw open the door and swept his eyes through the room. Two shadowy figures loomed forward with guns raised and he and Walker fired simultaneously. One perp spun with the velocity of the bullets and fell to the ground amid a hail of more screaming. There were more shots from behind him, and from Bravo Team across the room, and the second dropped.

"Where's three? Where's three?" Walker shouted, voice tinged with panic. Two cowering civilians pointed towards the other end of the bar. They didn't have a good view but Bravo did and the leader, Marshall, held a thumbs up. Perp down. "Were there only three?" Walker asked the civilians and they nodded, the stain of tears glistening on their faces.

"Alpha, clear," Eddie announced.

"Bravo, clear," Marshall echoed, flicking the safety on his M4. "We need EMTs."

Marshall's team switched to shepherding civilians outside while Alpha secured weaponry. Nicholls moved towards the first while Tandy approached the second, and Eddie had a burning pain and a sinking heart as he followed the point of the civilians in search of the third.

"Simon!" he shouted, kicking the rifle away from the dead perp before sliding to his knees beside Buck. His heart was in his throat, his stomach cooling into knots, as he slid a hand behind Buck's neck and tried to raise Buck's wavering eyes towards him. "You couldn't have waited a few more minutes, you absolute _idiot_?"

"Knew you were coming," Buck whispered with a dazed sort of smile, his face drained of colour, his eyes drifting out of focus.

"No, no, no. Stay awake, Ev," he said with a shake, grasping at Buck's hand as tears spilled unchecked down his cheeks.

" _Buck_?" Tandy exclaimed behind him while Walker and Nicholls appeared at his side. One unwound a tourniquet from a pocket on their vest while the other removed gauze to secure around Buck's knee. He moaned as they jostled him, drawing Eddie's attention to the puddle of blood already forming on the floor.

"Are you hit anywhere else?" His hands moved roughly over Buck, panic making him reckless because this was worse than Shannon. This was so much worse than Shannon. His soul might have been cleaved in two when she died amidst the water but he hadn't had her life in his hands like this. " _Evan_ , are you hit anywhere else?"

Buck blinked at him, a frown dipping his brows, the tip of his tongue darting out to dampen pale lips. "He got a lucky shot to my leg." A faint attempt at a wry smile twitched the edge of his mouth. "Bastard."

"Buck…" Eddie shifted closer to his shoulders, fingers dragging over Buck's jaw to keep his airways open. He was vaguely aware of Walker and Nicholls being replaced by medics who started their own assessments, who were telling him to give them room. There was more wincing and Buck's eyes lolled for a heart-stopping moment that made him sob. "Evan? Hey. _Hey_. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, Ev."

"I'm…" Buck's throat bobbed, and it was clear and startling how much effort it was taking him to stay conscious. Eddie knew the medics needed to get him moving, fast. "I… Eddie, I… I don't… I d-don't feel so good…"

"I know, cariño, I know. We've got you though, okay? You're in _the best_ hands." He watched the attention in Buck's eyes start to fade and thought he was going to throw up. "Get him out of here," he snapped at the medics, helping them roll Buck onto a gurney and watching him disappear out the door. The pool of blood on the floor remained, mocking him because he couldn't follow Buck when everything in his soul strained to chase the medics. It would be _hours_ before he would be able to see Buck in the hospital and he didn't even have Maddie's number to call her and tell her what had happened. He knew how the first responder grapevine worked, that she'd know soon enough, but it felt like something he was meant to inform her.

"Eddie?"

He rubbed a hand over his face, refusing to lean into the comforting hand that Walker settled on his shoulder. He couldn't break around his team worse than he already had. He swallowed, tilted his head to try to collect himself. "Sit rep?"

"Photos of suspects snapped and sent through to HQ for identification. Weapons secured. Four civilians with cuts and grazes and bruises, but nothing as major as…as Buck," Tandy listed and Eddie nodded, returning to a standing position. He surveyed the space that he knew so well which had been badly damaged amidst the gunfight and whatever Buck had done to the third perp and wondered if he'd ever be able to return here again.

His stomach churned as he limped out of the building, spying Athena on the phone by the observation van. He hoped she was setting off the grapevine so Maddie could be there for her brother. Chief Huntley shifted through the sea of cops and medics swarming the vicinity to shake their hands and congratulate them on a job well done but Eddie barely heard it, a sharp stabbing in his leg and a dull throbbing in his shoulder distracting him from most of what the Chief said.

"What was that?" Walker said, grasping his arm and pulling him down the stairs towards Athena when she waved them over, phone still pressed to her ear.

He felt numb, dazed. "What was what?"

"You crumpled as we were breaching." Walker's eyes pierced into him, clearly running the numbers that he'd been trying to add for months. Eddie knew when he got it because his expression cleared and his gaze widened. "You and _Buck_ are _Marked_?"

"Say it louder, I dare you," he grunted, shaking Walker's hand off him. He could hear Walker's breath of realisation and his heart clenched.

Athena lowered the phone when they were close enough to talk with her. She met his gaze first, gave a small nod of understanding. "I've spoken with Maddie. She's on her way to the hospital now."

He managed a small, grateful nod that she'd confirmed Buck would have her there. He just hoped Buck would hold on long enough for Eddie to get there too. He couldn't lose Buck. Not like this. Not like Shannon. The thought alone was enough to make his knees quiver.

"The only messy paperwork will be explaining why he seized _that_ particular moment to jump one but we don't have to worry about friendly fire. What Buck did is all on camera."

Eddie knew why Buck had chosen that moment. Eddie had struggled to ascertain Buck's feelings through the Mark but Eddie's had probably been amplified. Buck knew they'd been about to breach and would've thought he was being helpful. Three perps against two teams? Buck was evening the odds the only way he knew how. But knowing everything was on camera wasn't a relief either. They'd have to review the footage in a debrief to learn from their mistakes and improve their responses for the next time. That part of the job always sucked. And actually _seeing_ Buck get shot, rather than merely feel it, wasn't exactly high on his priority list.

"I've cleared you to go to the hospital too," Athena continued, staring at Eddie. It took an extra few seconds for his addled brain to process her words, and then he felt like he was blinking blankly at her.

"You- You did?"

"You would be useless to me for the rest of the shift, Diaz," she pointed out. She wasn't wrong, he'd already felt useless most of the call, but it felt like a dereliction of duty to pursue Buck to the hospital. He had hours to still complete but his feet itched to move. Her gaze drifted over the rest of the team. "I'll see you back at HQ after dropping him at the hospital. We'll do a debrief there."

Walker took his arm to lead him to the truck. Tandy drove with Anders up front once Nicholls ascertained the hospital where Buck had been taken. There was an uncomfortable silence in the rumbling truck, broken only by the noises of Eddie gradually shedding gear. There was the click of buckles as he removed the Glock strapped to his thigh and the M4 across his chest, sliding them into a locked container beneath the bench seat. He didn't need to ask to know Walker would sign them back into the armoury at HQ. He peeled apart different pockets on his tac vest to stow the extra mag for his Glock or the smoke cannister in separate locked containers. It was only when he couldn't get the key into the lock that he realised how badly his hands were shaking.

"Hey." Walker's fingers freed the key from his trembling grip and twisted the lock into place before pocketing the key. His fingers wrapped around Eddie's hands, thumbs rubbing over his knuckles as some of the surging adrenaline of shock and denial gave way to fear and grief. "We'll stay until Athena orders us back to HQ or we get another call," Walker said calmly. When Eddie looked towards him, he could see his friend attempting to dig beneath the layers of protection that Eddie had wrapped himself in after Shannon's death and only begun to loosen during the fledgling development of his relationship with Buck.

"You- You have to debrief, Si," he said, so quietly that the sound almost got lost in the back of the truck as he looked towards their hands. "You have to-"

"We have to support our own, Eddie," Walker insisted, squeezing his hands and drawing attention to how not okay he was with the way Walker used his name. "I was right, wasn't I?"

Eddie didn't need to ask what Walker wanted confirmation about. He considered denying it, but what was the point? He knew he'd been exposed by the way his leg had given way on him when they'd breached, the way he'd continued to struggle to move ever since. He thought it was a wonder he wasn't disintegrating into more pieces that had to be taped together again, but there was a chilling sort of numbness which was probably responsible. He met Walker's eyes and suspected the broken look on his face gave away the secrets of his heart and soul.

"I knew there was something different about you," Walker said, almost as if he were talking to himself. "It's still fresh?"

Eddie nodded and tried not to fold inwards. It was fresh enough, and the thought of losing someone else was making him want to scream. He knew Nicholls was paying attention but trying to pretend he wasn't, and knew Tandy and Anders were eavesdropping from the front of the truck. He desperately wanted to move to a new topic of discussion, and at the same time every cell in his body right now was revolving around his worry for Buck. The pain around his knee had dulled but he tugged one of his hands free from Walker anyway to rub at it, finding the spot behind the hinge of the joint that ached the most. He could feel Walker's eyes on him, tracking where he needed to soothe away the pain, and he wasn't ignorant to the reason why it hurt.

"We're here," Tandy called and Eddie wasted little time in untangling himself from Walker's hands and his seatbelt and leaping from the rear of the truck. He could hear the slam of doors behind him but he ignored it in favour of approaching the sliding ER doors. His tactical gear might have been discarded but he was still dressed in his SWAT blacks, with a fearsome group in his wake that were still fully geared up.

He approached the counter and dredged his most charming smile when a triage nurse glanced up at him with her own matching smile. Her gaze skipped over his outfit before darting past his shoulder to where his squad were invariably standing, and he watched as her smile faltered.

"Uh… Hello?"

"Hi." He swallowed, reaching for his ID card and badge and passing it towards her. "A victim from the Everaces Bar was brought here. Gunshot wound to the knee?"

She looked from his identification to his face and then nodded her head, tapping at the keyboard in front of her. With a few clicks, she was then scanning the screen with a pursed look on her face "He was taken into surgery five minutes ago. Do you need me to call the OR and-"

He shook his head rapidly. There was no way he wanted Buck to be held back from surgery. He lifted his ID and tapped it in front of her. "Just make a note for someone to update me, please? I'll be here with his sister when she arrives."

She tapped at the keyboard again and then flashed him a gentler smile. "Note made, Sergeant Diaz. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

 _Call the OR and beg them not to let him die?_ Buck had been shot in the knee. It wasn't like the head, or his lung, or his heart. He might end up in a cast, it might require some rehab, but Eddie couldn't see that it would be life-threatening. Still, he'd felt that agonising lurch when they'd gone to breach and he hadn't been able to shake how sick he'd felt ever since.

"That- That'll be it for now," he conceded, his voice almost fading to a whisper as he stepped back, stepped away, and felt the numbness return. He spied a corner seat that had a clear view of the door to watch for Maddie. Walker, Nicholls, Tandy and Anders sat around him and Eddie wasn't blind to the stares the five of them were drawing from others gathered in the waiting room. It wasn't even like the waiting room was quiet, either. There was a squealing baby to one side and a desperate mother trying to hush it. There was an elderly man whose chin was nearly on his chest, his hand in an older woman's who talked to him in a low hum. There were a couple of kids with a harried-looking teenager, a babysitter perhaps. And yet Eddie was able to block all of it out, zoning his attention so far inwards that it was like he lived in a silent void.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	14. Chapter 14

**Word Count:** 4,905  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

Long minutes ticked by where Eddie was only aware of his heartbeat, and the rise and fall of his chest, and his trembling hands. When the doors finally parted and Maddie came flying in, her hair bouncing around her shoulders and her hands waving in frantic circles as she spoke to the nurse, Eddie pushed away from his team without a word. He cut through the sea of people, calling her name over the din of noise. She spun, her eyes filling with fresh tears as she reached for him.

" _Eddie_!" She was already sobbing as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she clung to his waist. He gently cradled the back of her head, chin resting atop her hair as she gasped unsteady breaths against his shoulders. "I- I'm a-afraid to ask-"

"He- He'll be okay," he assured, with as much certainty as he could muster. He had no factual basis for such an assertion but plenty of an emotional one. "He was- He was shot in the knee so they took him to surgery but it's- It didn't look life-threatening."

She hiccupped, fingers twisting into his shirt as she peered up at him. "You were there?"

He swallowed and wished for the millionth time already that shift that he hadn't been. "Of course I was." He ran his fingers through her loosely tangled curls and somehow used her distress as a way to centre himself again, tucking away his hysteria to ensure she was comforted and settled. He knew Buck would do the same with Chris or Abuela if something ever went wrong. "How- How about we get a seat?"

She followed him to where the guys were still seated, her swollen eyes darting between the fact they were all still dressed in full gear and armed. She frowned at each of them. "Shouldn't you be debriefing back at HQ?"

"Athena can chew us out later," Nicholls said with a shrug, reclining into his chair. "It's more important to be here for our boss."

Eddie looked at Nicholls sharply but the guy, who was Eddie's senior by at least fifteen years, didn't seem perturbed to have adopted Tandy's nickname. Walker didn't bat an eye either, nor did Anders or Maddie. Nicholls _did_ shift over a seat though, allowing Maddie to sit next to Eddie on one side with Walker on the other. She slid her fingers into the gaps of his and held their hands against her knee. Her lower lip was increasingly bitten raw as she sat silently behind him, occasional twitches and tremors coursing through her frame.

After half an hour, Walker's phone chirped and Eddie knew from the apologetic look on his face when he glanced at the screen what it meant.

"Go. Don't piss her off," he insisted with a wave that lacked much enthusiasm. Walker squeezed his shoulder and Nicholls ruffled his hair before they left, which gave him something to fuss over as the foursome walked through the sliding door.

"Do- Do you want to talk about it?" Maddie said, squeezing his hand after the silence had surrounded them for a deafening five minutes.

He glanced at her, weighing up how she was a civilian and there were still certain limits around what he could or couldn't say. "All suspects downed," he said, hearing her exhale that seemed as much relief as shock. "Athena made it sound like he tried to jump one right as we were about to breach."

Maddie huffed a broken sort of laugh. "That sounds like my brother. Putting himself in danger to look out for others."

There was something in her words that he didn't fully understand but also didn't know how to ask, so he let the silence fall over them again. It was less uncomfortable this time, but it lasted longer.

Sometimes he had to stand and move while they waited, pacing simply for something to do, pacing because he needed to stretch out the kink in his legs every time his knee started to ache. There were other times he reached for his phone, checking to see if there was any communication from HQ about issues he had to deal with because he still felt like he should be on-shift.

Sometimes Maddie had to stand and she'd approach the reception counter, checking for any updates because she was clearly struggling. Each time, he watched as her arms crossed her chest, her fingers twitching against her arms, and her frustrated brow and tear-filled eyes would return to his side where she'd renew the vigil of clutching his hand.

"He'll be okay," she said at least half a dozen times. "He's a fighter. He'll be okay."

He wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.

It had to be almost two hours of crawling up the walls of watching and waiting and wandering, before her latest attempt at talking to a different nurse led to a different reaction. She waved him over and he bolted off his chair so quickly that he almost toppled into a kid playing on a phone. He managed to correct himself and mumbled an apology, weaving among the assorted chairs to press into her side. Her fingers loosely tangled with his, a reassuring squeeze that made his breath catch.

"He's out of surgery," she said simply and he attempted to swallow around the tight lump in his throat, attempted to find some version of a smile that didn't seem so much like a terrified grimace.

"He's listed as in Recovery. The surgeon should be here to see you shortly," the nurse behind the counter said with a smile that almost passed for comforting. Eddie could barely breathe, could barely think, as Maddie folded into his side and released another series of sobs.

They hovered near the swinging double doors that led to the maze of corridors. Maddie held onto him with one arm and texted with her spare hand.

"Howie's on shift," she explained when she evidently felt him glancing towards the phone curiously. "Chim. He'll tell the others at the 118. Bobby will tell Athena."

He nodded, still barely trusting himself to speak.

"Does your team know?" she asked, pocketing the phone and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. His gaze drifted from the double doors towards her again, taking in her wobbly smile that looked etched with more hope than he'd seen for hours, and he frowned.

"Know what?"

"That you're Marked."

He opened his mouth in surprise, hesitating to provide an answer and eyes flashing away like he was scared someone would overhear and report him for…for what? For working a SWAT call while someone he loved was inside? It'd be all over the news banners if _that_ detail got out. Huntley would have his head if that detail got out.

"He told me," she said, squeezing his hand and drawing his attention away from the panicked spiral. "I- I didn't believe him at first, which made him angry." She pressed her lips together, spare hand reaching to wipe at her damp cheeks. "I think- I think it hurt him that I doubted it. He was so giddy to show me the Mark behind his knee and it was… I've never seen him so happy."

Eddie could vividly recall Buck's disbelief at Eddie's Mark, and then the mix of happiness and fear that had filled Buck in the early days, the insecurity that what they were trying to create wouldn't last because Abby had broken his heart. Buck's reaction to Maddie's doubt made sense, mostly because he knew Buck had been filled with so much of his own doubt and had probably needed his big sister to soothe his fears.

For the first time, the way Maddie was looking at him created an uncomfortable prickling at the backs of his eyes. "My best friend knows after today," he admitted in a whisper and she gripped his hand tighter. "They- They were there when my ex-wife died. They met Buck when he came to do some training at Headquarters so they…uh… I'd guess the others will have their suspicions now too…"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know." She tilted away from him for a moment, lifting the hair off the back of her neck to expose a familiar sort of scar just above the knob of her spine. Then the curtain of brunette hair fell again and he could only blink. Buck had never mentioned Maddie had lost someone. "It's… It's painful, losing someone you share a connection with."

"It is." He realised he had so many questions for her, questions he wasn't sure he could ask because he didn't want to overstep with someone he only sort of knew about through the bits and pieces that Buck would share. "I- I'm sorry too. For your loss."

She snorted. "Don't be sorry. Not for _that_." He raised his eyebrow, wondering what on Earth she could mean. Scarred Marks _hurt_ and it was the polite thing to say. She stared at his reaction and then rolled her eyes when she realised. "Buck never told you, huh?"

Eddie shook his head slightly. "He's… He hasn't really shared much about _his_ Marks so he definitely hasn't shared anything about yours."

She sighed, conceding a small nod that could have been gratitude for his protection of her privacy. "My ex-husband was- He was abusive. I killed him in self-defence after he kidnapped me a couple of years ago."

He stared, waiting for the punchline, the wicked grin, the "Hey! Gotcha!". When it never came, and he was still staring, she rolled her eyes again.

"Buck _really_ should've told you," she muttered. He now had more questions but any opportunity to ask was stolen when the double doors swung open again. A man in dark green scrubs and a white coat exited and Eddie just _knew_ he was the surgeon about to announce Buck's name.

"He made it through surgery," the surgeon confirmed. The stitching on his coat said _DR DANIELS, ORTHOPAEDICS_ and Eddie felt like those words were emblazoned across his eyes. "There were some minor complications, though. He seemed to bleed more than we expected. We couldn't obtain previous medical records."

Maddie clung to Eddie's hand. "He- He's been on blood thinners since last year," she explained and though Eddie blinked at her in surprise, he didn't interrupt with a fresh series of questions.

"That would explain it then," Daniels said with a nod. "He's stabilised and in Recovery. I predict at least a month with the cast to stabilise the joint and the ligament repair, and then there'll be some rehab required to strengthen the ligaments again and increase his range of movement. Luckily, we didn't need to place any plates and screws into the bones which will aid recovery time."

"He would've hated that again," Maddie agreed and Eddie could only blink. _Again_? He'd seen the long scar that snaked along Buck's leg but it had been clear the other man was reticent to ever discuss it, so Eddie had never brought it up. "Can we see him?"

Daniels nodded and ushered them through the doors. Eddie could only follow the pair as Maddie asked a series of complicated medical questions and the doctor answered them easily. Eddie knew a reasonable amount from his medic training in the army, and he knew plenty about victims and injuries and triage and making life-and-death decisions, but he had no idea about a lot of the details that Maddie was asking. More questions to add to his expanding list.

They paused outside a door while Daniels squeezed antibacterial gel onto his hands, then gestured for them to do the same. Eddie could feel his heart skipping beats as Maddie released her grip to mimic the doctor. He was still rubbing the gel over the backs of his hands as he trailed behind her. He wasn't sure why it felt like he couldn't swallow and his stomach was in knots because he instinctively knew Buck was okay. He'd felt the pain in his leg but it still hadn't been the crippling agony of a broken connection, and there was some small degree of comfort in the increased proximity.

Still, Maddie waited for him by the drawn curtains that Daniels had disappeared through and he inhaled deeply, released the breath slowly to try to loosen some of the tension in his shoulders, and nodded at her.

For all her anxiety and tears in the waiting room, Maddie seemed less distressed now that she had her brother in front of her. She moved easily to his side, fingers sliding around his hand and avoiding the cannula and wires that circled his hand and wrist. Eddie felt like his eyes darted everywhere: the bulky shape visible beneath the sheet, the monitors and IV by his bed, the nasal cannula attached to his face, the way his cheeks were as white as a piece of paper.

"He'll be pretty groggy when he wakes up, which should be sometime in the next half hour or so," Daniels said, gesturing towards his leg. "All indications are that he'll be fine."

Eddie tentatively stepped toward the opposite side of the bed from Maddie, the pads of his fingertips drifting across the skin of Buck's arm. It felt unnervingly cool to the touch, unnatural, although there was a small flicker of heat emanating from his Mark at the touch. It soothed some of the sick twisting that had been ravaging him since he'd first learned that Everaces was where they were being deployed. He curled his fingers around Buck's arm and inhaled a breath that was deeper than any other in the last few hours. Buck was _alive_. Buck would _heal_. Buck would be _okay_. It finally seemed like he could start reminding himself of that.

"Thank you," Maddie said, breaking some of the trance Eddie felt like he was in and he caught the nod between her and Daniels.

"All in a day's work," Daniels said with a smile and then he was gone.

Maddie's carefully maintained façade crumbled as soon as the curtains were yanked closed, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "You're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, dumbass."

Eddie hooked his foot around the plastic chair and drew it towards him, sinking into the plastic because even though he'd been sitting on and off for hours, he still felt like his knees were weak. He couldn't think about whatever words were circling in his head and could do little more than stare at Buck's face and keep his hand against Buck's arm and try to block out all the fearful noises with a constant chant of _Buck was alive, Buck would heal, Buck would be okay._

Maddie sat on the edge of the hospital bed and continued muttering a mixture of big sister desperation and frustration that Eddie had heard from his sisters on more than one or ten occasions. It sounded to Eddie as though Buck had been in a lot of awful situations in the past and he couldn't help wondering if Buck was a danger magnet for disasters or just extraordinarily unlucky. Maybe chasing too many black cats towards broken mirrors while diving under ladders.

They both noticed Buck twitch at the same time, a slight shift in his breathing and a sharper beep from the monitors beside him, followed by some incoherent mumbling and a low moan. His brow dipped as he tilted his head.

"Hey, Ev," Maddie whispered, brushing her spare hand over his forehead, smoothing fingers through curls of hair. "I'm here. Eddie's here."

As if to emphasise the point, Eddie increased the pressure of his hand slightly.

"Hurts…" Buck hissed, eyes flickering open for the briefest flash as he tilted into her hand on his cheek. " _Mads_ …"

"Yeah, it's me." Her thumb traced his cheekbone but it did little to erase the pained scrunch of Buck's eyebrows. She glanced at Eddie, an eyebrow cocked. "His injured knee had the Mark on it, right?"

Eddie nodded, looking between her, Buck's face, the bulk beneath the sheet, and back to her.

"Can you rub a hand against yours? It… It's a long shot but it might help."

He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue, afraid of maybe inflicting more pain on Buck. Usually touching the Marks made things feel better in incredibly sexual ways but this was…completely different and he didn't want to cause _that_ sort of reaction.

Much as Maddie raised her spare hand to Buck's cheek, Eddie lifted his to steal beneath the collar of his t-shirt and trail the tip of his finger over the Mark. It was cool to the touch, as cool as Buck's skin, and he watched closely as Buck's inhale stuttered before some of the obvious pain in his face and muscles lessened and he sank into the bed.

"Eddie…" Buck hummed, and Eddie wasn't sure whether he was meant to look at Buck or Maddie. Buck, whose eyes were closed, or Maddie, who looked smug as shit.

He kept circling the Mark with his finger and eventually it seemed Buck was dragged into a light sleep because his breathing evened out and Maddie looked no less pleased.

"What?" he said, belatedly realising it was the first thing he'd said since she'd told him about killing her ex-husband. He still wasn't sure he knew the words he was trying to find to talk to Buck or explain his feelings about this situation.

"That's a deep connection you've got to my brother, Diaz," she said, her cheeks stained with shiny tear trails. Yet the edge of her lips kept twitching upwards, which made him feel somewhat unnerved. "Had you realised?"

He hadn't, although he knew it was different to what he'd had with Shannon. They both had such limited experience with requited Marks that Eddie had just assumed variations in connection strength was natural.

He drew his hand from his shoulder and tucked it around Buck's arm, wondering if the skin was warmer to the touch now or it was just his imagination. He knew Maddie's eyes were still on him, perhaps waiting for him to say something, but his attention was on Buck, on ensuring he was okay and comfortable and resting.

* * *

Buck stirred again a couple of hours later, when Maddie was getting some coffees and Eddie was pacing. He'd been moved from Recovery to a room and Eddie attempted to find comfort in the steady beep of the heart monitor and the fact Buck could breathe on his own, but until his eyes opened, until he was awake and alert and communicating…

So when Buck stirred, a muffled whisper of pain that drew Eddie to his side in three quick steps, his hand slipping into Buck's as he sat on the edge of the bed. It took another few minutes before he watched those beautiful, confused, blue eyes drift across his face.

"E-Eddie?" His voice sounded almost as rough as Eddie's frayed nerves.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty." He cradled Buck's jaw with his other hand, mindful of the nasal cannula looped across his cheekbones and behind his ears. "How do you feel?"

Buck's brow creased as he shifted slightly, eyes widening as a fresh ripple of pain spread across his vision and his breath hitched. Eddie thumbed over his cheek, waiting until some of the hurt dissipated, until Buck was as comfortable as possible in the hospital bed.

"What happened?" Buck said instead of answering, gaze wandering around the room. "Why am I in the hospital?"

Eddie squeezed Buck's hand, lifting it towards his mouth to place soft kisses over his knuckles. "You- You were shot."

"I… What…?" Buck's frown deepened, his eyes flicking back and forth like he was trying to recall some of the images. "I- I don't- How? Where?"

"You were at work." He held Buck's hand against his chest, watching some of the uncertainty give way to flickers of understanding. "What do you remember?"

"It… There were…three of them…?" Buck said slowly, clearly sorting through the bits of memory as his eyes danced over sights Eddie couldn't see. "They wanted the cash and…and some of the top label stuff? I… One of them got...antsy, I guess, when people managed to escape Fired some warning shots into one of the walls..."

Eddie nodded, adding the information to the debrief he would undoubtedly have at HQ later and when he was cross-referencing witness statements. He knew Buck was on a lot of pain medication but he also trusted Buck's recollections more than anyone else that had been at the bar. Three guys who wanted cash and some alcohol? Why had they been kitted out with high-grade weapons? Why had they been prepared to go to a siege? There were some threads Eddie couldn't tie up and he knew they'd be questions he would ask Athena during the debrief. He almost expected her to stop by after her shift ended, even if it was the stupidly small hours when she was due to knock off.

"Once he'd fired the shots, he…he said the others couldn't leave after that," Buck continued, his voice wavering.

"Hey." Eddie shifted the hand from Buck's face to stroke through his hair, squeezing his hand. "You _did_ leave, Buck. You got out. Everyone did."

Some of the distance in Buck's eyes lifted as he met Eddie's gaze, and then seemed to realise he was dressed in his blacks. "You- You were there?"

Eddie supposed he was glad that Buck seemed unable to recall those immediate moments of being shot, the heart-stopping panic Eddie had felt as he'd held Buck's hand and tried to keep him conscious through the pain. He pressed his lips together and gave a tentative nod.

Buck released a shaky sigh, shifting a little in the bed again and wincing in obvious discomfort. "How- How bad is it?"

"The injury?" He shrugged, jerking his head towards Buck's leg and rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. "It passed through the back of your leg. The surgeon said you didn't need any plates and screws but you'll be on crutches at least a month and need some rehab because of the ligaments?"

Buck wrinkled his nose. "Not again…" he mumbled.

Eddie was partway to opening his mouth to ask the question that he'd thought about when Maddie had been talking earlier, but then she re-entered the room with two coffee cups in her grasp and an Asian man behind her who had his own cup.

"Evan!" She deposited the cups on the bedside table and nearly knocked both over as she flung her arms around her brother, jostling Eddie against the bed and almost certainly shifting Buck with the way he groaned in obvious pain. "Oh my God, I'm so glad you're awake."

Buck awkwardly patted a hand against her shoulder. "It's my knee, Mads. Not my head."

"Still." She cupped his cheek, her eyes clearly glittering with tears. Eddie began to feel like an unnecessary extra observing their interaction from too close and it was clear the man hovering at the foot of the bed felt the same. "Next time, please just let Eddie's team do their job. Or if you get stuck in a burning building, wait for Chim. Okay?"

Eddie glanced at the other man. Chim. _Chimney._ That name was familiar. Fourth of July barbecues. Calls where they'd crossed paths with the 118.

"It's hard not to be the hero," Buck joked, even though Eddie didn't think Buck actually remembered much of those final moments of action. Maddie huffed, prodding the middle of his brow. "Anyway, hey Chim."

"Buckley." Chim nodded at him, the stern expression on his face betrayed by the twitching of his lips. "You actually managed to last more than twelve months before landing in the hospital again. I was _so_ impressed but now I have to restart the timer."

Buck snorted, then winced at the evident pull on various muscles. "I'll try not to follow it up with another visit around Christmas time and I still should be doing better than last year, right?"

There was a conversation occurring that Eddie didn't understand as he glanced between the three of them but at that point in time, it didn't matter. As far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered except the fact that Buck was awake, and talking, and joking, and okay.

Buck squeezed his hand and offered a wobbly sort of smile like he knew some of the anxieties swimming inside him, which helped lure Eddie away from the thoughts buzzing around. "Have you told Chris we need to delay camping and burying the capsule?"

To be fair, Eddie didn't even have his personal phone on him to text or Abuela or Carla. It would still be in his locker at HQ, and the thought of collecting his things had been so far from all the important things tumbling through his mind in the aftermath of the call and the desperation to get to the hospital.

"Not yet." He pressed a kiss to the centre of Buck's palm. "He'll understand."

"This damn leg is going to affect so many of our activities," Buck complained, sinking into the pillows and releasing a deep sigh of frustration. "He's going to hate it."

"Nonsense." Eddie squeezed Buck's hand, ignoring the amused smiles he knew were being exchanged between Maddie and Chim behind him. He wasn't sure whether it was in response to him or Buck and he wasn't about to ask. "I can almost guarantee he'll see you on crutches and be delighted that you match."

Some sort of faint flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of Buck's mouth. "He really would."

"Yep," he said with a more decisive nod before glancing at Maddie and Chim, then back to Buck. "So, uh… It's either very late or very early. We should probably have a doctor check on you and then leave you to get some more rest."

Buck pouted, gaze drifting between Eddie and Maddie. "Don't leave me here."

"Buck, visiting hours ended before you were even moved up here. You're just lucky Eddie's in SWAT and flashed his badge around a whole lot," Maddie pointed out and Eddie ducked his eyes at the look Buck shot him. He hadn't _intentionally_ thrown his weight around, but he _might_ have said something about how he was a witness and needed protection until he was awake and alert and interviewed. Perhaps.

"But I… I don't want to be alone," Buck admitted, his voice fading towards a whisper, and Eddie peered up at him and then towards Maddie. She looked undecided, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"I'll stay," Eddie said, thumb stroking over Buck's knuckles as he looked back to him. "Abuela will already know she needs to keep Chris until the morning. Athena or Simon would've called her if she hadn't already seen the news. I'll sort out getting to HQ for my car and gear in the morning."

"I can call Bobby, and he can call Athena to get your gear," Chim offered and Eddie looked to him and gave a grateful nod.

"Are you sure?" Maddie asked and Eddie reached for her arm, offered a light squeeze as he smiled at her.

"I couldn't possibly be home alone," he said and though Buck squeezed his hand again, Eddie kept his eyes fixed on Maddie until she nodded. He'd never been surer of anything in his life than continuing to look after Buck, keeping him close, reassuring his brain that he was still alive.

"Okay." Maddie leaned forward to kiss her brother's head and trail her fingertips down his cheek. "We'll be back sometime in the morning. Maybe lunch time. I love you."

"Love you too," Buck murmured, managing a small wave at Chim and then following their departure with his eyes. Once they were gone, the door ajar for the inevitable doctor visit once they tracked someone down, his attention returned to Eddie. "Thank you for staying."

Eddie shifted from the edge of the bed to the uncomfortable plastic chair, knowing he was going to deeply regret his decision to stay after he'd spend a handful of hours coiled into the unforgiving piece of furniture and then have to unfold himself in the morning to return to Headquarters and collect Chris. "I'll feel better knowing you're close anyway."

"I appreciate-"

Buck's words were interrupted by a doctor flurrying into the room, checking his charts and observations on the machine, and then quizzing him about his pain, what had happened with the surgery, what he remembered of the incident, if he had any questions. Somewhere in the middle of it, unnecessary to the conversation, Eddie had lowered his head to the bed beside Buck's hip. The dialogue washed over him, like it was taking place on some other planet, and the low murmur of voices helped lull him somewhere towards a state caught between awake and asleep.

There was a huffed laugh somewhere above him and he thought he hummed in quiet contentment when he felt fingers brush through his hair. Some of the light hitting his eyelids lessened, and before he was even consciously aware of it, all the adrenaline of the day finally faded away and he was sinking into the embrace of sleep.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....apparently ITWWE didn't show up properly in the tags the other day so here's hoping this does, I guess??


	15. Chapter 15

**Word Count:** 4,354  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

Buck was discharged two days later. Although Eddie agreed to swing by his apartment to collect clothes, and toiletries, and medications, and other extraneous items Buck insisted he needed, Eddie was equally as insistent that Buck was going to stay with him and Chris for the foreseeable future. There was no safe way for Buck to navigate upstairs to his bed and the couch simply wasn't comfortable enough to sleep on for an extended period of time.

"I've done it before," Buck protested as Eddie shooed him out of the apartment.

"Yes, but you didn't have my place to stay where I can take care of you," Eddie retorted, like he hadn't said it a hundred times already over the past couple of days.

"I really don't need to be cared for _all_ the time."

He rolled his eyes, jabbing his finger at the _B_ button for Basement and adjusting the strap of Buck's bag over his shoulder. "Will you stop pretending like you don't want to be spoiled for a while?"

Buck grew quiet after that. When Eddie glanced across at him, he caught the shy smile and dusting of pink across his cheeks. It seemed likely he was going to be embarrassed by all the attention Eddie intended to lavish on him.

Eddie helped Buck into the front seat, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Besides," he added, tracing Buck's cheekbone, "my house is already crutches-friendly so there's less likelihood of you tripping over and hurting yourself before Christmas _again_."

Buck rolled his eyes but a smaller smile twitched his lips, giving a playful push against Eddie's chest.

There was a comfortable sort of silence between them on the drive to Eddie's house, although he concentrated on sensing Buck's feelings so he didn't accidentally say the wrong thing. Everything between them had been good so far but Eddie was terrified spending so much time around each other might cause some sort of rift, or argument, or breakdown in communication. It had happened with Shannon and he really didn't want it to happen with Buck.

At a red light, he glanced across at Buck's fidgeting fingers in his lap. "Buck…?"

"I just…" Buck swallowed, releasing a sigh. "Are you sure Chris doesn't mind that I'm…taking over?"

"Ev, Chris is _thrilled_." Chris had been making 'Get Well Soon' cards ever since Eddie had told him Buck was injured and likely to stay with them for a while. Chris had been understandably worried, and filled with a thousand questions, but then he'd moved from worry to action. Eddie hadn't told Buck that there were a stack of cards waiting for him. He felt like that ought to be a surprise. "I'm starting to think he loves you more than me."

"He could never," Buck countered, and the smile playing on the edge of his lips helped Eddie relax with the acceptance that Buck seemed like he would start to accept the help rather than argue about someone taking care of him. "I'm just some guy that takes him climbing or flies around a room with him. Nowhere near as important as his _dad_."

He frowned, waiting until he hit the next red light to reach across the truck and clasp Buck's hand. "Never say you're just 'some guy' ever again." He squeezed Buck's hand, casting a look across the gap to ensure his words were heard loud and clear. "You know as well as I do that our Mark is important. That makes you far more than just 'some guy' to me, _and_ to Chris."

Buck gazed at him, uncertainty clearly flickering in the depths of his eyes and making his hand twitch in Eddie's, like he wanted to pull it away but couldn't find the courage. "And you know as well as I do that the Marks can change, Eddie."

"Buck-"

There was a shrill beep behind them that made them both startle. Eddie was forced to drop Buck's hand to proceed through the green light before the impatient driver behind them got even more irate, but he didn't drive far down the road before he found a gap in some parked cars.

"Buck-"

Buck stared out the windscreen like the view wasn't some static, uninteresting storefront. "You know I'm right."

Eddie fought the urge to sigh or roll his eyes. He had a son. His son could get petulant. He handled his son's moods. He attempted to handle his own. He could handle whatever was eating at Buck.

"Yes, you're right. They do change. Sometimes they scar," he pointed out and was glad Buck at least managed a small wince. "But for now? For now, it's still a half Mark, Buck. For now, that means we're both invested in this. For now, that means you aren't just _some guy_ to me. It means you're worth _a whole lot_ to me. Got it?"

He thought Buck might've intended to continue the stoic staring for the rest of the drive home or maybe until Eddie broke a tooth because he gritted his teeth so hard. He wasn't going to leave the parking spot until something changed. He had more ammunition, more ways to remind Buck that he mattered, but he watched Buck closely and could see cracks in the armour he surrounded himself with starting to form. He could see the way he was dissolving and the anxiety around his heart left a chill around the Mark on his shoulder.

"This is still… I…" Buck huffed, dropping his head to cover it with his hands and inhaling deeply.

He flipped off the ignition when he realised this was a more serious conversation than he'd first anticipated. He shifted in the seat so he could face Buck better and was tempted to reach for his hand. He was afraid that might make Buck clamp down further, though. "What's this really about, Buck?"

"It- It's nothing. It's stupid," Buck mumbled behind his hands, fingers curling against his forehead and the knuckles were white with how hard he was pressing. Unable to stop himself, Eddie reached across the gap and clasped Buck's wrists. With some gentle tugging, he was able to lower Buck's hands and twined his fingers into the gaps.

"It's _not_ nothing and it's _not_ stupid if it's making you feel like this." He squeezed Buck's hands, rubbed his thumbs into the centre of Buck's palms. "I literally saved your life after you got shot. It can't be worse than that."

Buck scrunched his nose as if to protest but a faint flicker of a smile appeared on his lips and there was a small lightening of his eyes. They were the most encouraging signs Eddie had had to date. "Are you going to use that line forever?"

Eddie gave a lopsided smile. "Maybe. It's a pretty good line to get to use."

Buck grunted but Eddie noted some of the tension in his hands lessened, some of the minor twitches in his anxious fingers reduced. "I haven't… I haven't been with anyone like…like this," Buck said, eyes fixed on his lap. Eddie watched him close enough to notice when his throat bobbed with a swallow. "Abby was… It wasn't like this. She wouldn't have let me do something like move in with her if I'd been hurt, and she… She didn't have any kids but I- I think she wanted them? And I knew I wasn't ready to be a father so it put all these oppositions between us that were difficult to figure out and so it…it divided us."

Eddie tried very hard not to react, not to give away how much it terrified him that maybe somewhere along the line, somewhere in the distant or near future, Chris would somehow turn out to be a dealbreaker. He'd thought Buck and Chris had been getting on well, that they had been building a bond as strong as Eddie's with Buck, but maybe he'd been wrong.

"Buck, if you'd rather stay with Maddie-"

"I _want_ to stay with you," Buck interrupted, his words faintly strangled with emotion. He looked to his right to stare out the window, the tremble in his hands reducing. "And it scares the shit out of me that I'll wear out my welcome, that I'll be around so much you change your mind and you'll wake up and your Mark has changed and I-" Buck's breath caught and even though Eddie wanted to challenge everything, he also felt like now that he had Buck talking, he needed to let him continue. "Eddie, I won't even know if mine _changes_ because it's all covered in plaster for at least a month and- I- I can't- I don't- I d-don't want to mess this up."

Buck fell silent, head lowering towards his lap, and Eddie was left to swallow and try to sort through all the information Buck had thrown at him. It was clear he was riddled with insecurities and he needed to respond to them, needed to soothe Buck's fears, because he knew there were a lot of similarities in Buck's feelings.

"I'm sorry. I told you it was stupid and I-"

"Hey, no." Eddie shook his head and gripped Buck's hand tighter, wishing Buck would lift his eyes towards Eddie so he could gauge the effect of his words beyond the mere side of his face and the quiver in fingers and an uncertain pulse at his shoulder. "None of that is stupid, okay? You're allowed to be scared and you're allowed to be afraid, Buck. I am too."

He let that confession hang for a long moment, forcing himself to wait as Buck processed it. He was relieved when Buck finally looked at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"It's not as though I'm riddled with red or black Marks, Evan. It's not like I have a wealth of experience talking about my feelings or feeling deeply for someone." Eddie paused, watching Buck's eyes dart as he listened. "I'm just as scared you'll lose interest or Chris and I will be too much, too fast. Getting shot is-" He exhaled slowly when he saw the fall in Buck's expression. Eddie knew the hospital had tried to encourage Buck to talk to a counsellor just as he knew Buck had rejected the chance. "What you went through in that bar is something you have to talk about to someone at some point, okay? We debrief at HQ after every call, but you can't shut it away and go about your day like it didn't happen. I know what happens when you do that."

Buck stared at him for a long minute before slowly nodding. The gesture may have been small but it felt like an enormous step in the right direction to processing the trauma of being held hostage and then shot.

"I'm here." He folded his fingers through the gaps in Buck's. "And I'm not going to drop you like a hot potato. If we make sure we talk to each other, if we make sure we're honest, then whatever happens will happen. We can't-" Eddie hesitated, swirling his thumb over Buck's knuckles. "We can't fear the Marks will turn black at some point and that stops us from actually enjoying what we have right now."

There was still obvious anxiety in Buck's face so Eddie tugged him closer. He lifted a hand to Buck's jaw, tilting his head to brush their lips together. He could feel the shiver in Buck's frame when he used his tongue to tease Buck's lower lip free of his teeth. Buck whimpered, a hand lifting to cradle Eddie's cheek to maintain the slow kiss. Eddie focused on pushing all his positive thoughts and feelings, all his hopes and cares and certainties and love, through the Mark and into the parts of Buck's awareness that could receive that sort of information.

" _Eddie_ ," Buck whined against his mouth and Eddie smiled at the reaction. He was determined to make Buck understand that having fears was acceptable but that they stood a chance, that Eddie was all in and wanted Buck to be nearby and safe. But he also wanted Buck to know he was needed, and needed Buck to know he was wanted.

Buck pushed into the kiss and Eddie could feel the pinpricks of heat erupting across his body. He pulled away so he didn't lose himself in the kiss more than he already had, practically sitting on his hands so that he stopped grabbing Buck. He wasn't a teenager that was about to grope Buck in his truck, which was parked to one side of a busy street. He was a SWAT Sergeant. He needed to remember to use _some_ boundaries while he was in public.

Buck looked dazed when his eyes finally opened, a sheepish sort of smile painted across his face. "That…was a lot."

Eddie smiled in response, feeling almost smug. "Good though?"

Buck nodded, ducking his head and twisting his fingers together into his lap. "I… Uh… I think parts of my brain are still remembering how to work."

Eddie laughed, planting a quick kiss to Buck's temple before he sat in his seat and glanced out the windscreen at the occasional pedestrian on the footpath. His skin felt like it was buzzing but he also knew kissing Buck until his brain short-circuited wasn't actually ensuring they communicated about their concerns.

"I don't know what the future holds. If I did, I would've made sure Shannon and Chris weren't anywhere in the path of a tsunami. I handled our separation but her death…" He shook his head, swallowed around the lump in his throat when he lingered on the thought of the crisis at the bar, at how close he could have come to losing Buck as well. He tried to search for the sense of calm that got him through difficult calls and difficult moments, but the memories of losing Shannon and fears of losing Buck made it harder. "You're hurt and someone needs to take care of you, Buck. Why not me?"

He could feel Buck's eyes on him, the weight of his uncertainty and anxiety in the car filling the space every time Buck breathed. "I really, really don't want to impose on you. Or Chris. Maddie's place can-"

Eddie was almost tempted to say that if Buck was so determined to stay at Maddie's, then he'd drive there and be done with. But he had a feeling that was what Buck was angling for him to say and he wasn't going to give up that easily. His eyes swivelled towards Buck again. "If the only argument you have about _not_ wanting to crash at my place is because you think you're a burden, then you're wrong. You'll never be that to me or to Chris."

A flicker of a smile tugged at the edge of Buck's lips. "Because you saved my life?"

He could feel the threat of a smile on his own face. "Something like that. I don't tend to rescue some guy and then take him home with me too often."

He'd almost say Buck looked _bashful_ when he met Eddie's steady stare.

"So are we okay? You're good with staying with Chris and me?"

Buck dragged his bottom lip past his teeth with his tongue, then slowly nodded. "We're okay. And I'm good with staying with the two of you. We still need to bury that capsule, after all."

Eddie chuckled and reached for Buck's hand again. "Maybe when you can actually hobble into the yard."

"Oh, I can hobble. I'm the _best_ at hobbling."

He arched an eyebrow, shifting his hand to the gearshift to put the car in Reverse and resume the drive. "Oh really?"

* * *

Buck's presence contributed to establishing new, necessary routines. It was quickly apparent Eddie needed to be up first so he could help bathe and dress Chris and get him started on breakfast. Once Chris was chomping on slightly-burned toast or slightly-soggy cereal, he returned to lift a protesting Buck out of the bed and onto his crutches so he could start showering. When Buck was safely in the shower, Eddie would return to eat a quick breakfast alongside Chris.

On the days Eddie had a shift, Carla or Abuela would collect Chris and he was less panicked if they were late because he knew he could leave Chris with Buck. It also meant that Chris could sleep in his own bed more often instead of sleepovers at Abuela's because someone would be home to greet him after school. He could tell Chris was satisfied with the new arrangements because of the brightness in his eyes and the dimple in his cheeks when he smiled, something Eddie had noticed was missing so long ago that he'd forgotten what it looked like. Yet Eddie still eyed Buck suspiciously on the mornings when he got home from a shift and struggled to rouse Chris, because Buck's attempt at an innocent smile seemed dubious, at best, when he asked if Chris had gone to bed on time.

"How's the home life?" Walker asked.

Eddie glanced up from where he had been unbuttoning his shirt to swap into his blacks. He'd been trying to maintain his neutrality at work, trying to carve out a space that wasn't infected with the oppressive knowledge that there was an undercurrent of _wrongness_ at home, but he could feel it in his face that he was tired. He'd woken Buck from too many restless dreams-that-weren't-quite-nightmares during the night, too attuned to hearing when his breathing turned ragged in the silence of the room and the feel of his racing heartbeat beneath Eddie's palm when he hauled Buck into his arms. And if Eddie knew anything, it was that those nightmares could very easily turn into night terrors if left untreated.

"He's…managing," Eddie said cagily, glancing at the others lingering in the locker room. Tandy was buckling his belt, Anders was tying his laces, Nicholls had already left in search of his third or thirteenth cup of coffee. Because if Eddie knew anything, it was that Buck was _very_ good at hobbling around the house and had kept his complaints to a minimum. Occasionally, he requested some pain meds or that the cushion beneath his knee be adjusted, but otherwise he stayed quiet. And so Eddie wasn't sure it seemed right to question whether Buck was as okay as he wanted to pretend with his friend. "It helps having him close."

"I'll bet," Walker agreed, tucking his shirt into his pants. "Are you bringing him this weekend?"

Eddie frowned, hands stilled against the buttons. "What's-"

Walker rolled his eyes. "Molly's turning thirteen?"

"Oh!" Somewhere in the haze of hospitals and home last week, he knew Walker had shoved a pink invitation at him as he'd hurried out of HQ to get to Buck. Clearly he hadn't engaged with it closely enough to realise it was a birthday party, or that the date was so close. "Uh… I haven't asked him."

" _You_ didn't even know," Walked pointed out and Eddie hoped his face didn't flame as red as it felt.

"It's been a busy time, man."

It was the understatement of the century but Walker inclined his head in acknowledgment, an apologetic flicker in his eyes. It was why they'd developed and maintained such a close friendship. They didn't have to hang out all the time but things blew over in seconds because Walker knew so many of his thoughts and actions from hours and hours spent together in high-pressure situations.

"Come along. Bring Buck. Feed Chris a whole lot of sugar that makes you hate me the next day."

A laugh bubbled out of him before he could stop it and he shoved Walker in the shoulder to finish getting dressed. "Her party isn't a sleepover, by any chance?"

* * *

He arrived home a couple of hours after his shift finished, arms laden with groceries. He'd expected a buzz of noise from the television, or the low murmur of voices as Buck helped Chris with his homework. He thought maybe there'd be the smell of something cooking, or a glimpse of snacks across the kitchen counters. Instead, the house was quiet and the counters were bare. He lowered the bags to the floor and counters, then freed his phone from his pocket to check for any missed messages that Buck had gone out with Chris or his Abuela. His screen was empty though, and the last text he had from Buck was a reminder to collect milk.

With a frown, he trekked through the house in search of his two boys before he paused in the archway of the living room. Chris was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, tongue sticking past his lips and his forehead creased with a frown of concentration. Scattered on the floor around him were a variety of markers, some without their caps, and there were several smears of colour across his cheeks and neck that Eddie couldn't hope to explain.

Settled on the couch in front of Chris, leg propped on the coffee table with a cushion beneath his heel, was Buck. His head was tipped against the back of the couch, his mouth slightly ajar as he snored quietly. On the one hand, it was good to actually see him sleeping. Too often in the past couple of weeks, Eddie had been startled awake in the middle of the night by Buck yanking the sheets as he tossed restlessly.

On the other hand…

"Bud?"

Chris' eyes lifted towards him and he held a finger to his lips to keep quiet which was absolutely something he'd learned from either Eddie or Abuela. Eddie approached the pair slowly, eyeing the now-multicoloured cast adorning Buck's leg. It was scrawled with various shapes and creatures, and maybe some outlines of characters from Chris' favourite movies. The white cast certainly hadn't looked like this before his shift and, judging from Buck's very exhausted appearance, Eddie doubted he even knew what had been happening if Chris had been quiet and gentle enough.

"He seemed so _sad_ ," Chris whispered as Eddie inched closer, crouching to gather and pair some of the discarded caps and markers. "I didn't want him to be sad about his leg anymore, Dad."

Eddie bites on his bottom lip to reduce the smile at how sweet his son is, because Buck had been so worried about Chris not accepting his presence while he recovered and in the meantime Chris had completely wrapped Buck around his finger. Eddie knew he needn't worry about Buck reacting poorly to the decorations on his cast, and he was grateful Chris wasn't yet old enough to have drawn anything inappropriate. It would have been awkward to have Buck hobbling around with dick-shapes on his leg.

Inspired, perhaps, by Chris' doodles and remembering all the times he'd gotten distracted at the art class staring at Buck, Eddie grasped a blue marker that reminded him of Buck's eyes. He scrawled a series of hearts across the cast from his ankle towards his knee then found a brown marker to add more hearts, and shaded one-half of a random selection of the blue hearts. Chris' cheeks were dimpled with a smile as he watched Eddie find the red and black markers to draw a weaving trail of lines around and between the collection of hearts. It was meant to represent his and Buck's eyes, and their Marks, and it wasn't his best work – though he wasn't sure he even _had_ any sort of 'best' work – but he knew Buck would understand the symbolism when he saw it.

And then he realised how distracted he'd been by Chris' project that he'd abandoned the groceries. "I have ice cream!" he gasped, tossing some of the markers onto the floor and darting back to his feet with Chris' muffled giggles behind him.

By the time he'd finished sorting the groceries into the fridge, freezer, cupboards or pantry, Buck was awake and Chris had curled into his side while they watched cartoons. His fingers were smoothing through Chris' curls and for a moment Eddie was overwhelmed at how comfortable and calm he looked, how utterly _at home_ Buck seemed to be with his son.

"Hey," he said as he stopped lingering in the archway, settling on Buck's other side and catching the still-slightly unfocused look of someone who had probably only recently woken. He pressed a kiss to Buck's cheek and there was a tired sort of smile that lifted the edges of Buck's lips.

"Hey yourself," Buck murmured, nodding his head towards Chris staring up at the two of them. "Your kid here is a better artist than you. Maybe you should ask him for lessons next time."

Of all the things Eddie might've expected him to say, _that_ hadn't been it. He snorted a laugh and kissed Buck firmly, fingers scrunching into Buck's side as he squirmed and choked on a laugh. Chris attempted to join in and then Buck was shrieking about unfair disadvantages of four hands tickling him to death and he only had two to swat them away.

"I'll have you know, I've deciding to try abstract symbolism," Eddie said once they had all collapsed into a breathless pile, Buck twitching occasionally with echoes of phantom tickling.

"Abstract symbolism? What the-" Eddie gestured towards his array of blue and brown hearts and Buck's words caught. "Oh. I didn't… I didn't realise that was _you_."

Eddie looped his arm through Buck's and nuzzled a kiss to his shoulder. "Have to make sure everyone sees how I feel for you."

Buck rolled his eyes but kissed his forehead anyway. Eddie smiled, feeling somewhat dopey with all the warmth and affection that filled his stomach. "You're a sap."

He laughed again and brushed fingers against Buck's side that absolutely made him try to recoil in readiness for another attack, though really Eddie just wanted to snuggle into him and rest after his shift. "Only for you."

* * *

_**~TBC~**   
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooooooooooooooft.
> 
> That's it. That's the note.
> 
> _Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooft._


	16. Chapter 16

**Word Count:** 4,124  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

 **Warnings:** This chapter contains references to a dissociative episode.

* * *

"This is…a lot of pink," Buck said with wide eyes as he limped up the path to Walker's house. Chris had already disappeared inside the house in search of candy or chips, his carefully inscribed card clutched in one hand.

And Buck wasn't wrong. Eddie had been to Walker's house many times over the years, but he wasn't sure he'd ever seen it decorated like _this_. Pink streamers and balloons were tied to the posts of the front porch, interwoven with strings of mint green. There was pink confetti scattered across the lawn that Walker would almost certainly regret next time he had to mow it. As they stepped inside the house, there was a further explosion of pink and mint green streamers and balloons taped across the walls, along with the high-pitched shrieks of children having fun that made Eddie almost immediately shudder. He tolerated Athena's parties because they were predominantly adults. This? _This_? Not so much.

Harry peeled out of a side room in pursuit of another boy Eddie didn't know, both of them squirting water guns and ducking the spray by hiding behind pieces of furniture in terrible attempts at taking cover. And really, considering Athena's status in SWAT, he expected better aim from her son too.

"Not inside the house," he said automatically, knowing Walker would never stop complaining if the crêpe paper streamers got damp and then stained a wall or piece of furniture pink or green.

Harry's eyes flashed towards him, a grin lifting his lips. "Oh. Hey Mister D!" He lowered his water gun until it was aimed far too much at the other kid's torso and Eddie tried not to feel like he needed to police Athena's kid for his use of non-deadly weapons. He'd always looked differently at guns after joining the army, and that had never abated since joining the LAPD and working his way into SWAT. He hadn't figured out the best way to have a talk with Chris about guns and gun safety yet, feeling as though he was too young, but Harry was only a little older and clearly having fun. Eddie just needed to learn how to turn the _parent_ part of his brain off. "And…Buck, right? Chim's girlfriend's brother?"

Eddie blinked and realised that the summary was as accurate as it was in highlighting the convoluted connections between them. It almost made him wonder whether he should have gone to more of Athena's events. Maybe he would have met Buck sooner. Maybe he wouldn't have even needed the drawing class. But even if he _had_ met Buck earlier…then what? He still would've had the lingering issues of his relationship with Shannon to contend with when she was alive, or his grief and rage after she'd died, and either way that probably would've made everything with Buck impossible so maybe nothing would have happened or maybe he would have been a pale pink Mark but certainly nothing like-

"That's me," Buck said cheerfully, a wobbling hand touching the small of Eddie's back. It drew him out of the tangled swirl of his thoughts and he leaned into it subtly, soaking in the comfort that Buck's touch provided. "Where can we find the other adults?"

"Back patio," Harry said, yelping as he got hit in the face with a stream of water from the other kid who was evidently bored of waiting. "Now you're gonna get it, James!"

The two scurried away and Eddie shook his head, wondering how many more years he had to wait until he was tugging water guns from Chris' hands to explain to him why brandishing even fake guns was problematic.

"Hey." Buck's fingers pressed into him once the thumps of the boys had disappeared into another room and he glanced over his shoulder at the wary blue eyes that were openly assessing him. "You good?"

"I…." He swallowed, wondering how much he might've given away of his thoughts or emotions to Buck once he started thinking too much about Shannon. He probably should've expected the follow-up. "I'm okay," he said, though his smile felt more tentative than it had previously and Buck looked less than convinced. He shifted slightly sideways to touch his hand to Buck's, squeezing at his fingers. "Let's find the others."

He led Buck through the house, glancing at a horde of giggling teenagers and almost-teenagers in Walker's dining area clustered around the table, and exited the sliding door to the patio.

"Sarge!"

"We're off-shift," he said with an eye roll at Tandy before waving at Anders and Nicholls and squeezing Jennifer into a loose hug. Huddled in a corner on the opposite side of the circle was Polson. He gave her a hesitant smile that she returned as Buck's crutches clicked and clattered through the door behind him.

"Buck!"

Eddie refused to be offended at how _delighted_ Tandy sounded to see Buck, but he might have filed away the detail for the next time they did a drill or sparred to give Tandy an inch more hell. Maybe he'd disassemble all the weapons and gear and give Tandy impossible time limits to piece everything together again.

"Ray," Buck said with a nod of his head and a shy sort of wave to the others. Eddie stepped aside so Buck could shuffle more into view. He shifted his weight from one crutch to the other, looking from Eddie to the gathered team with the exception of Walker, who had to be inside somewhere. "Uh… I wanted to...to thank you all for...saving my life a couple of weeks ago."

Eddie blinked at Buck with surprise because he thought this was the first time he'd really referred to what had happened since he got out of the hospital. He knew Buck seemed to hold it together when Chris was awake but it was when Chris was asleep, once Buck didn't have to hide all the feelings from his kid, that Eddie became more aware of how much he was struggling with everything he was holding inside because he seemed to shrink in on himself. Eddie suspected he was going to develop bald patches from all the hair-pulling as he tried to understand how to navigate his way out of this mess.

"It's our job," Nicholls said calmly, the stock-standard approach they all used when someone came to thank them, but Buck shook his head, reaching a hand towards Eddie. He moved back towards Buck's side like he'd been pulled there by an invisible cord, pressing a hand to Buck's back and feeling the quiver in some of the muscles that betrayed how anxious he really was to be talking about this. He didn't miss the way Nicholls and Tandy looked between them when Buck's hand settled on the small of his back, leaning into him as he swayed on the crutches, but it took a lot of effort to tamp his initial emotional response because this was about Buck right now and his team could rib him about it later.

"I know what you do," Buck said, glancing towards Eddie before gesturing towards Tandy with a wry smile, "and I know how to make you do it better, but you saved my life and a lot of other lives that day. I knew everyone else inside was too afraid to act and it devolved into a war of attrition, until you guys and girls showed up and saved us."

Tandy shifted in his seat, grinning as he straightened his shoulders. "I could probably take you now."

Buck's hand twitched against Eddie's back and he looked at the glittering blue eyes that had honed in on his junior member. "You could try, but I won't be responsible for getting you an icepack when you land on your ass."

Nicholls guffawed and Jennifer and Polson laughed at the disgruntled pout on Tandy's face as he sank back into his seat, arms folded over his chest with an undeniable jut of his lower lip in a ridiculous sort of pout.

"You're only saying that because you don't want to end up with _two_ legs in casts," Tandy muttered which very nearly made Eddie grab one of Buck's crutches to whack him over the head for his thoughtlessness. At the very _least_ he added it to the list of things to punish Tandy with once they were running drills at HQ again.

But Buck snorted, fingers brushing over Eddie's back like he knew he was infuriated by the comment. "I'm saying that so _you_ don't end up with two legs in casts," he retorted and there was a fresh round of laughter.

"What did I miss?" Walker said as he emerged with Athena and Bobby in tow. There were specks of pink glitter on his cheeks and confetti in his hair and judging from the lack of anyone speaking up, there must have been an unspoken agreement to conceal these details from him. It was hard not to pull his phone out and snap a photo to use at some embarrassing event in the future.

"Just Buck here proving he's just as good at taking Tandy down with his words as with his hands," Nicholls commented and Walker's eyes flashed towards Buck, a grin at his lips.

"Well, Buck. Don't stop on my account," Walker said as he dug out extra plastic chairs from a stack on the lawn and hoisted them towards Eddie to add to the circle. "Piling on the probie is the best part of any day."

"Hey! Aren't you meant to be on my side?"

Walker ruffled a hand through Tandy's hair as he returned to the patio. "I'm on the side that continues to remind you there's a lot to learn, kiddo."

Tandy wrinkled his nose and there was a scattering of laughter but Eddie was more focused on helping Buck into his seat, then propping his leg on an extra chair in the middle of the circle.

"Do you need a cushion?" he said, tangling his fingers loosely into Buck's.

"It's okay for now," Buck conceded and squeezed his hand.

The conversation shifted towards other topics depending on who was talking the loudest and, in typical fashion when he was surrounded by his colleagues, he found himself drifting between Walker or Nicholls the most. If he wasn't holding Buck's hand between the gap in their seats, then he was lingering behind Buck's chair with his fingers tracing idle patterns against Buck's shoulder or neck while talking and listening to someone else. At uneven intervals, he went inside the house to get fresh drinks or swipe some snacks for them, or poking his head in to check on Chris and observing whatever artistic endeavour was occurring on Walker's table when he'd poked his head in. They all seemed so deliriously involved.

On one such trip, Walker followed him inside to check how the pizzas for the kids were heating in the oven. Eddie collected fresh bottles of water from the fridge, ready to bemoan the fatal flaw in a children's birthday party: no alcoholic beverages.

"How's he _really_ doing?" Walker said, folding the oven mitts together on the counter and leaning against it, holding Eddie in place with his stare.

Eddie's eyes darted towards the door of the kitchen, listening for any small or large ears that might overhear the conversation. "What do you mean? He's-"

"Eddie."

Satisfied no one was lingering near the doorway, he glanced through the kitchen window that overlooked the patio. He spied Buck talking with Bobby and wondered how much Bobby might've known through Chim, who had to know things through Maddie. Buck had mumbled something about Maddie stopping by while Eddie was on one of his shifts last week and refused to say anything further, which didn't bode well as far as Eddie was concerned. Eddie wasn't sure there'd been many Buck was dealing with this at _all_ and it had given Eddie a new perspective about what Shannon must have seen when he returned from his tours because it was clear when he watched Buck that something could creep into his thoughts that made his words trail away in the middle of a sentence. Just as it was obvious something wasn't right with Buck, it must have been obvious to Shannon. He almost felt ashamed that he'd spent so many years trying to insist he was fine, and okay, and doing well. Maybe he _was_ partly responsible for the breakup of his marriage, and the blackening of the Mark on his wrist, like Shannon had told him so many times. Maybe there was only so much shutting out that someone, anyone, everyone could take before giving up.

And it _terrified_ him that he and Buck might be headed the same way if he didn't try to do something about it.

"I think it's still really raw for him," Eddie admitted, fiddling with the cap of the water bottle. "He's stressed about going back to both of his jobs. He's stressed about the Mark being damaged. He's stressed about the rehab he has to go through. He's stressed about what happened." He shrugged, fingers twitching against the bottle.

Walker nodded, clasping a firm hand to his shoulder. "You need to talk to him."

Eddie wasn't ignorant to _that_ particular necessity but confronting Buck about his reactions, pointing out what those responses suggested or could develop into as a full-blown _thing_ that haunted him for a whole lot longer than a few weeks… That was a whole other concern. And _that_ conversation revealed too many parts about his own broken past.

"I know, Si," he conceded, and Walker squeezed his shoulder before letting his hand drop.

"Shall we?"

Eddie nodded and returned outside with Walker, passing Buck a water bottle and letting his fingers circle the back of Buck's neck. He felt Buck shiver against him at his cool hand, but there was also a rush of affection and a gentle grasp of his arm as he tuned into Bobby and Buck discussing some recent 118 call that Buck had heard about through his sister.

It was nearing the end of the party – the food had been eaten, the cake had been cut and distributed, the craft creations had been completed, some kids had already been collected early – when the remaining kids started to get restless and rowdier waiting for their parents to arrive.

And that was when a new form of disaster struck.

The adults were still outside, chatting in various smaller groups as they had done all afternoon, when there was a squeal inside and a loud _BANG_. There was a shout of "No! Don't do it again!" and then a couple of extra _bangs_ followed by more shrieking. Walker had already dived out of his seat to reprimand the kids inside for the noise and the inevitable mess that destroying the balloons was making but it took Eddie a moment longer to realise how tightly folded Buck had become in his seat across the circle, how pale his face had turned, the utterly fathomless distance that had entered those iced blues.

Eddie wasn't even sure what conversation he'd been having with Walker, Nicholls and Athena up to that point when he saw Buck. He was already moving across the circle when he heard another _bang_ , more tuned now to see Buck's flinch even though he looked to be a million miles away, his hands trembling in his lap.

Eddie sank to his knees next to Buck, as some of the conversations continued around him with an ignorance to the unfolding meltdown. Or maybe it was more like a shutdown. "Buck?" he murmured, hand hovering over Buck's arm while he debated whether touching was likely to be more or less triggering. He'd seen Buck slip into something distant and brought back through his touch before but he hadn't seen _this_. He hadn't seen it so bad. " _Hey_. Look at me, Ev."

The bottomless blue eyes slowly drifted towards him but there were limited signs of recognition, and it made Eddie's stomach coil. He knew that look, he'd seen it in the faces of soldiers before, in the eyes of rescued targets, in his reflection above the sink. He knew the cold emptiness that sank claws and teeth deep into your understanding and awareness, and he knew that look was typically one he would have given to Shannon, or his parents, or Abuela, or, on rarer occasions after awful calls, Walker and perhaps even Athena.

Pursing his lips in an attempt to suppress his worry from being deeply inscribed across his face, he moved his hand from hovering over Buck's arm to touching the tips of his fingers. Buck's eyes flickered but his hand stayed where it was, as if he was frozen in place, and that sort of paralysed state was familiar too. Eddie wasn't sure it was wise to hold on too tight, to surround Buck too much, but he slid his fingers into the gaps of Buck's and curled their hands together.

"Pete, can you find Si? Tell him to find Chris and make sure he's ready to go sometime soon," he said in his clearest voice without glancing back at his senior member. There was a scrape of chairs and footsteps and he was grateful his teammate leapt into action without questioning his orders, even when they were off-duty.

"Sarge? You want help?

He shook his head at Tandy, fixing his attention on Buck's empty eyes. As freaked out as this made him feel, he'd been there. He knew this. He knew all the grounding techniques that had been thrown at him, so he knew where to start with Buck. He knew he could probably rub at the Mark and draw him back too. He didn't want help, but he did need no more balloons to pop unexpectedly.

"Breathe with me, okay?" he said to Buck, his grip tightening on the hand. There was a fade in the background noise which was probably because the others realised something was wrong, but could just as easily be due to the narrowing of his focus because nothing else mattered as much as pulling Buck back to the present. He gradually shifted Buck's hand to his chest, where Buck would be able to feel the expansion and contraction of his lungs. "In and out with me, Ev."

If Eddie had doubted that Buck wasn't dealing with this before, then it was certainly confirmed now. It took longer than he would have liked to encourage Buck to breathe with him before he began asking Buck to label items he saw or could feel. He was partway through mentioning what he could hear when he startled, blue eyes blinking rapidly as a sharper inhale made him twitch. His eyes widened as he looked around the patio like he didn't recognise it, his brow furrowed when his gaze fell on Eddie kneeling by the side of his chair.

"E-Eddie?" Buck murmured, his voice laced with confusion

He managed a weak smile, lifting his other hand to cup Buck's cheek and hold his attention. "Hey. How about we head home?"

Buck looked over his shoulder, attention wandering over various chairs and inevitable people trying not to stare. Eddie didn't want to look as well, knew that there'd be too many questions and too much insistence that Buck needed help, so he squeezed Buck's hand and drew the tired blue eyes back to him. He knew that exhaustion too, the desire to fold into bed and sleep everything off after too many restless nights.

"Home?" he prompted.

"Oh." Buck's throat bobbed as he swallowed, a small dip of his head like he'd forgotten Eddie had posed a question only moments ago. "Yeah, I… Y-Yeah… Sorry?"

Eddie shook his head, rising to his feet again. Buck might've been able to recognise him but his struggle to form a coherent thought still made it clear he wasn't entirely cognizant and the sooner they left, the sooner they escaped any more popping balloons, the sooner he had Buck settled in a safe and controlled environment where Buck could rest or have his face drawn on by Chris' markers after running out of room on his cast, the better. If another balloon went off, he knew it'd be even harder to bring Buck back.

"C'mon," he encouraged with a somewhat insistent tug to get Buck out of his chair, lifting the crutches beneath his arms as Buck fought for balance.

When he turned, he was surprised to find the circle of chairs empty. He arched an eyebrow, his failure to realise everyone had cleared out behind him making him wonder just how deeply he'd been concentrating on luring Buck back to the present. He refrained from commenting, if only because Buck wouldn't have cared, and pressed a hand to the small of Buck's back to guide him slowly into the house.

Once they'd crossed the threshold, once he'd determined there was still a low hum of voices, that the house wasn't as empty as the patio, he paused and cradled Buck's cheek to look at him. "You think you can head for the truck while I get Chris?"

Buck's eyes wavered around the house but he nodded, continuing to shuffle through the corridor towards the front door. Eddie found Bobby, Nicholls and Jennifer in the kitchen and announced his departure with Buck and Chris.

"You going to be okay?" Bobby said from where he was scraping food scraps into a bin beneath the sink.

"We'll be fine," Eddie confirmed, although he was less than convinced and suspected it was written all over his face.

"Walker's with the kids in the family room. You'll probably find your tyke there," Nicholls added and Eddie nodded his thanks and gave the trio a wave.

Sure enough, Chris was part of a gathered group listening to Tandy tell stories about their less insane, less gory, less adults-only calls. Walker was sitting against a wall, his fingers loosely braiding Molly's hair, but his eyes immediately snapped towards Eddie when he lingered in the doorway. There was a knowing glint in his expression that Eddie understood all too well, that made it clear Walker had known something was wrong with Buck long before the balloons started popping.

"Mijo," he called, drawing Chris' attention along with Molly, Harry and a bunch of other eyes towards him. "C'mon. Time to go home."

Chris wobbled to his feet, crutches helping him balance, and gave Molly a hug. "Happy birthday, Molly," he said with a bright grin and she tapped his nose with her index finger.

"Thanks for coming, Christopher," she said, wrapping her arms around him. Eddie tried to focus on his son in favour of avoiding Walker and Tandy's studious stares. There was no doubt everyone had caught what happened to Buck and been kind enough to provide the space for him to deal with it, but there was also no doubt he'd have to approach Buck about this sooner than he'd like otherwise his team would probably be unrelenting in checking in on _him_ during shifts. It would be too easy for Buck to get sucked in and that drew Eddie with him, like quicksand. They'd already seen him at some of his lowest lows and he'd be glad to avoid that again if he could.

Chris let go of Molly and shuffled towards him. There was pink glitter across his little nose and the swell of cheeks, and Eddie knew it would add extra time to the evening bath but for now he brushed his fingers through the curls and lifted Chris to his waist. "Have fun?"

" _Yeah_! We were making scrapbook pages for Molly so that she remembers us _forever_ ," Chris said in absolute glee, his fingers scrunching and loosening against Eddie's chest. "She had all these photos of everyone and we got to decorate our own pages! And there was so much food and the cake was so good and-"

Eddie smiled as he listened to Chris rattle off everything he'd enjoyed, carrying his son carefully through the house until he spied Buck leaning on his own crutched by the passenger side of the truck. His shoulders were hunched as he typed something on his phone and Eddie wondered who he was texting. Maddie? He tried to pretend like the thought that Buck might reach out to someone else instead of him didn't upset him. Buck had had a life before him, after all, and possibly had a network of people who could help him cope if he called on them.

For now, though, Eddie had to pretend like he wasn't absolutely lost with how to deal with this.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	17. Chapter 17

**Word Count:** 4,124  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

**Warnings:** This chapter contains some explicit sexual content.

* * *

"Come in."

He kept his hands behind his back as he entered Athena's office, separating them briefly to close the door. The click drew her eyes from her desk where she was poring over paperwork and she removed her glasses to look at him closely. He didn't want to shift too much on the spot, he'd stood in front of COs in the army, but Athena was as much a friend as a boss and at the same time he felt like he'd just willingly stepped into the principal's office.

"Eddie?" she prompted when his indecisive silence evidently dragged too long.

He hesitated, the internal war he'd been battling reaching breaking point. He'd spent two weeks watching Buck struggle to manage his responses and his reactions, and the silence since the party on the weekend had been deafening. He fought to keep his personal and work lives separate as much as possible, but it had been impossible to dodge the questioning glances of the team all day and he knew he needed help. As much as he hated betraying anyone's confidence, he wasn't too proud to admit he was out of his depth.

"I'm worried about Buck."

Athena's eyebrows rose and she leaned back in her chair, waving a hand towards the pair of seats in front of her desk. He inched forward until he could sit, her eyes fixed on him the entire time. Once he was seated, he wasn't sure whether his gaze should be on her or the floor.

"You're worried about Buck?" she echoed.

"He's-" Eddie chewed his bottom lip, folding his hands into his lap. "I know he- he's not really coping with what happened? He doesn't want to talk about it. He deflects any time Chris asks him something, and he gives this exasperated ' _I'm fine_ ' if I look at him for too long." He inhaled deeply and then released it slowly, trying to soothe his nerves at talking to anyone about this. "I know he's not talking to Maddie either. She- She stopped by on Sunday, and I gave them some space, but I know he didn't talk to her because she looked so tired when she left." There were traces of frustration in her expression too, and Eddie hadn't yet decided if he was relieved that Buck was so stubborn with _both_ of them or not. "But I- I _know_ he's not okay and I…don't know how to talk to him about it."

Athena propped her elbows on the arms of her chair and steepled her hands together. "So after what happened on the weekend, you came to _me_ and not _Walker_?"

Eddie shrugged, because it wasn't like he hadn't thought about it. A lot. And internally debated since helping Buck into bed after the party and every waking moment since, including the drive to shift that morning. But…he still hadn't said much to Simon because there were parts of his personal life he struggled to discuss after his reaction to his Mark scarring while surrounded by his team. "Simon's my friend but he doesn't know Buck."

"And you think I do?"

Eddie met her arched eyebrow with a stare of his own. "I think you know how to handle difficult conversations that people don't always want to have," he said pointedly, knowing how many times she'd kept poking him to talk after Shannon died, "but you have them anyway because it's for their own good."

"Oh, so you concede it _was_ for your own good then?"

He rolled his eyes at the amused flicker of her lips, but it didn't last long before she tilted her head and something more calculating entered her expression.

"But you also know that not _everyone_ wants to have those difficult conversations."

He could feel the heat fill his cheeks and his eyes dropped in acknowledgement of the point she was making.

"Sometimes, you need to let someone fall apart before you can start trying to help them," she said and Eddie begrudgingly knew that to be the truth. He'd been there. Too many times. "Sometimes, it's just about finding the right moment to talk with someone. When things are quiet, when a place seems safe. Think of it like crisis negotiation and using your 'I' statements."

Eddie didn't want to start applying tricks from the job to his relationship to Buck. What if it ruined what they were trying to create? Yet he could see her point at how foregrounding his feelings would reduce any perception of accusing or confronting Buck that he wasn't okay: _I am worried about you. I have noticed you've been quiet lately. I have heard you struggle to sleep through the night._

"Eddie?"

He lifted his eyes towards her again.

"Be gentle with him," she said and when his eyebrows rose, she shook her head slightly and the glint of amusement returned. "I know you know that; I know you know what it would've been like for him, but be gentle. What happened on the weekend proved he's probably stretched very thin as he tries to deal with the knowledge that he wasn't _just_ held at gunpoint, he got injured by one of those guys before he was able to take him out. He took a life, Eddie."

Eddie realised he hadn't viewed it through _that_ particular lens since taking Buck home with him. He'd been so focused on Buck being hurt, on the trauma of what he'd survived, that he hadn't thought about how Buck had actually _killed_ one of the guys with his own weapon before one of the others had shot him in the chaos.

"It was a lunatic move, Eddie. You and I both know that," Athena continued, leaning forward slightly in her chair. "It saved lives, but it also cost three. That's a lot to grapple with if it's not something you have the skills to deal with."

Eddie could recall Buck talking about washing out of the SEALs but what did that really mean? Had he completed the training, been deployed and experienced something that contributed to dropping out? Or had he left partway through training with unresolved tensions and those had flared after the attack? He wondered if there was anyone Buck had truly talked to in the past, someone he felt safe with opening up to, where he had the opportunity, a space, that was uniquely _his_ and that Eddie could reach out to now. He had a feeling Buck might've been isolating himself from the realities of life for far too long if something had happened while he was in the SEALs. He had a feeling Buck had more insecurities than he let on when he thought about the tears Buck had shed over all his Marks.

He swallowed around the clench in his throat when he began to wonder just how well he knew or didn't know Buck, just how well he was equipped to try to help him. He'd offered to help Buck because of his injured leg but had been ignoring the fact that there might be wounds that went far deeper. "What happens if he still won't talk to me?"

Athena shrugged. "Then you let him know you're always available to him and wait as patiently as you can to let him come to you when he's ready."

Eddie could be patient. If there was one thing he was absolutely confident he knew about himself, it was that he could be patient. He'd spent hours forced into patient silence in the army, and in SWAT he often had to wait on calls, gathering intel to determine the best path forward. He knew how to be patient and then he knew how to adapt to whatever plot, plan, and improvisation they needed to approach a dangerous situation.

But with _Buck_? Eddie already knew through Shannon that he wasn't patient when it came to someone he cared about, and with Buck he wasn't sure how to be patient when someone he…someone he _loved_ was in such pain. He wasn't sure he knew how to be patient in those situations.

"Thank you," he said quietly, when the terrifying realisation that he _loved_ Buck started to worm under his skin and he found it harder to breathe.

Athena nodded at him, clearly missing the distress inching inside his lungs. "Go home, Diaz. Give your man a hug."

Eddie suspected he'd either do a whole lot more than that or he'd end up breaking down in tears at all the emotions flooding him. It was a war between how he felt about Buck now and a renewed fear considering how he'd lost Shannon. He managed a curt nod, escaping Athena's office and barely glancing at any of the next shift's squads milling around in the locker room as he collected his belongings and strode from the building, throwing himself into his truck to begin the journey home.

Halfway home, he realised there were tears on his face and by the time he made it to the driveway, he was hyperventilating. The fear had left him raw, because somewhere during the drive he'd realised how close he'd actually come to losing Buck, how he could have been stripped raw and flayed again by another death of someone he shared a Mark with. Would cleaving your soul in two with a half-half Mark hurt worse than a completely blackened Mark? He didn't know and it was absolutely tearing him to shreds.

He flinched at the sudden burst of sound emanating from his phone and he fumbled his hand across the screen once he'd removed the device from his pocket, lifting the call to his ear as he struggled for breath.

"Come inside? Please? I- I can't come out to you…"

And of course Buck knew he was distressed. When Eddie lifted his eyes to the front door, Buck was leaning against the frame with his crutches propped beneath his arms, hand raised to hold his own phone to his ear in a mirror of Eddie. And Eddie realised maybe this was the moment he needed. Maybe this was easier to admit all his feelings with some faked distance between them. Maybe it was easier to expose how afraid he was if they could just talk through the phone. Maybe it would make it easier for Buck to talk about how he was feeling.

"I'm s-so scared of losing you," he whispered into the phone, staring at Buck through his windscreen. "I didn't- I was so- so f-focused on the task of taking out the t-targets and s-saving you that I- I hadn't s-stopped to t-truly think about what would happen if I- if I lost y-you."

Buck watched him from the doorway, his eyes sad as he shifted on the crutches. "But you _didn't_ lose me, Eddie."

He sniffled and thought about Athena's advice, about how to use his crisis negotiation tactics to get a target talking and get them away from whatever dangerous, self-destructive ledge they might be standing on. As much as it was a ploy to get Buck talking, it also forced him to confront his painful thoughts and feelings too. "But I- I f-feel like I'm losing y-you _now_ ," he said, swallowing against how strangled his throat felt. "I- I've seen this before, Ev. I've _experienced_ this b-before. And I- I'm h-here, Buck. I'm _here_ and I- I _love_ you and I c-can't- I h-hate knowing you're in s-so much _pain_."

Even at this distance, Eddie could see when a tear spilled down Buck's face. He could hear the breathing in his ear turn ragged. He knew this might not have been what Athena had meant about choosing a time or location where Buck felt safe, or that this almost certainly wasn't how he'd intended to broach the topic with Buck, but maybe that was how it was going to be. Maybe this was how it _had_ to be. Every part of their relationship had been unconventional so why shouldn't this be too?

"You don't- Y-You don't have to h-hide what happened in the bar from me, Buck," he said, searching through all the parts he hated talking about the most because of how Shannon always struggled to listen to him talk about it. "I- I've been in wars. I've been in more dangerous s-situations than you'll ever know or that I c-can even talk about. It's my _job_ to go _in_ when w-we're yelling at everyone else to g-get _out_ ," he continued, rubbing his free hand across his face and trying to get rid of the tears blurring his vision so he could maintain his gaze on Buck at the front door. "Let me h-help you get out, Buck."

"You- You've already saved my life once," Buck mumbled, his voice wavering in volume as he evidently fought to keep control of his reactions. It dawned on Eddie that Buck _still_ thought he was being a burden, _still_ thought he was imposing on Eddie's hospitality and perhaps Chris' patience. He thought they'd dealt with it on the drive home from the hospital a couple of weeks ago but no, Buck's insecurities were deep and his emotional scars were deeper. He should've known after the way Abby had left, and perhaps he should have guessed because of Buck's shame at the pale pink Marks that littered his skin. Eddie had been foolish to think one conversation could solve everything.

He shifted out of the car, ending the call and pocketing his phone as he crossed the path to his house and jogged up the few steps to his front door. He didn't hesitate as he reached to cradle Buck's cheeks in his palms, feeling the way Buck trembled so badly that the crutches were barely keeping him upright. He inched closer, prepared to catch Buck if he fell. As many times as it took.

"Querido, if I have to s-save your life every damn day for the rest of my life, then I'll do it," he said, firm and assured even as a fresh tear trailed down his cheeks when he saw the way Buck's carefully controlled façade was starting to disintegrate in front of him. It was devastating to feel like his heart was breaking in his chest and he wasn't even sure if it was because of the pain he felt or the depth of agony that Buck had been feeling but trying to close off, trying to protect, for the last few weeks. He hadn't even realised how out of sync they had become until it occurred to him how divided his heartbeat had felt. "You're w-worth _everything_ to me, mi amor. I'm sorry if I- I hadn't communicated that to you clearly enough but I'll tell you every m-morning and every n-night and ten times per day."

A sob burst from Buck's lips as his gaze fell towards the floor. Even though the sound sent ripples of hurt all the way down to Eddie's heart and soul, he wrapped his arms around Buck's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple. Buck leaned into him, shuffling on the crutches and nuzzling into the crook of Eddie's neck as another sob bubbled free.

"I _love_ you, mi corazón," he murmured, dragging a hand up and through Buck's hair, clinging tightly to keep him on his feet even as he started calculating how he could guide Buck to the couch, or the bed, or somewhere else just to hold him for as long as it took until he cried himself out. Admitting he loved Buck wasn't even the scariest thing going on between them right now. "Please don't keep suffering with this. I'm here, I'm yours, and you aren't alone."

"I'm s-sorry," Buck whimpered, one hand snagging loosely against Eddie's shirt. Eddie shook his head, adjusting his arms so he could turn Buck and lead him inside.

The door shut a little too loud and they both recoiled before resuming the slow trip to the family room, where the nest of blankets suggested Buck had been hunkered almost the entirety of Eddie's shift. He felt guilty, like he should have said something sooner.

"D-Don't blame yourself," Buck said as he lowered to the couch, placing his crutches against the coffee table and staring at Eddie with tear-filled eyes.

Eddie pressed into the end of the couch and tugged Buck into his lap, folding arms around him and nudging kisses all over his hair and the back of his neck. Buck shook and sniffed and gripped at one of Eddie's arms across his torso as he finally seemed to let himself go.

"I've got you, cariño. There's nothing you can't tell me, okay?" he whispered repeatedly against Buck's hair, interspersed with a whole lot of gentle pet names that made Buck gradually sink into his embrace and nod against his chest. It wasn't until Eddie realised that their breathing was matched, and he was pretty sure their heartbeats had to be too, that he started to feel like they had synced again and some of the pain ripping him apart receded.

"It- It just- It f-feels stupid to be afraid when I- I _train_ people how to face their fears and defend themselves," Buck began and Eddie tried not to exhale too hard in relief that he'd managed to get Buck talking.

* * *

Once Buck started to talk more, Eddie realised just how much had been hidden away during the months he'd known him. It hurt to learn Buck had quit the SEALs because he struggled with taking the life of another person, which made him realise Athena had been onto something. It surprised him to learn Buck's first pink Mark had appeared at thirteen, in response to someone he'd developed a crush on in his History class but never truly spoke to. It was earlier than most got a Mark, but perhaps explained how he'd ended up littered in so many: Buck shared shards of his heart painfully easily.

Eddie mapped constellations of the Marks as he listened to Buck late at night or early in the morning, learning about how Maddie had run off with her soon-to-be-husband at nineteen which left Buck alone with his parents. Eddie still couldn't gather a deep amount of knowledge about Buck's parents but he gathered that they had a distant relationship, and lived on the other side of the country. He learned about how Buck had sheltered Maddie when she'd left her husband, and how Buck and Abby met when she'd come into the bar after a shift at the 911 dispatch centre. He pieced together that Maddie and Abby hadn't met, but that Abby's mother had been sick and that she'd started travelling after her mother had died.

He learned how Natalie had suggested the class as a way for Buck to learn to sit still and focus on nothing, an attempt to calm some of the storms of anxiety that swirled inside him after the tsunami. He brushed fingers through Buck's hair when he finally started talking about how terrified he'd been, staring down the barrel of three guns and knowing it was his responsibility to keep the patrons in the bar safe, and how he'd been able to sense Eddie's decision to breach the building which had spurred him into action to even the odds.

It took almost a week, in between Eddie's shifts and Chris being around, for Buck's painful stories about who he was and what'd he'd been through to be shared. And then he asked the question that what must have been weighing on his mind since the attack:

"What if the Mark is gone?"

In the early morning light of Buck spooning behind him, Eddie shook his head. He tugged the collar of his shirt to one side, revealing the half-half Mark he knew remained stark against his skin. "You know you can't get rid of them deliberately so you won't get rid of it now."

Buck's fingertips grazed the Mark and Eddie shuddered, the hesitation in Buck's touch clear as he traced rings around the stripe. "What if- What if it's not the same, though? Maybe the sensations will have changed. Maybe it's-"

"Buck." He tried to breathe around the way Buck's touch was stoking a fire in his belly that he had steadfastly ignored while Buck was injured, but there were only so many cold showers he could handle. "Once your cast is off in the next couple of weeks, I'll spend an entire night touching it just to prove it feels the same."

Buck's thumb kept stroking over the Mark, as though he were unaware of the sensations rippling down Eddie's spine. He tilted his head to meet Buck's eyes, his attempt at a glare faltering when he glimpsed the darkness swirling in Buck's eyes and exposing how he knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

" _Buck_ ," he said, halfway between a hiss and a whimper as his breathing shortened, his pulse thudding in his chest because Buck showed no sign of stopping and Eddie wasn't sure if he would be able to once he started. "Buck, we _can't_."

"I'm not broken," Buck pointed out and Eddie struggled not to shift his hips in small movements forward and back, still trying to resist the desires unfurling within him.

"But-"

"I know you want to," Buck said, the pad of his finger firming against the Mark and drawing an unbidden moan from Eddie's lips before he could bite on it. "I do too…"

Eddie wriggled against the constriction of the sheet to press his lips against Buck's, dragging his hips against Buck's thigh in search of some friction. He could feel Buck's smile against his mouth, the way Buck gasped into the kiss when Eddie's fingers crept beneath the elastic of his sweatpants and underwear.

" _Eddie…_ "

"I know, mi amor, I know."

Buck's fingers kept swirling against the Mark as they kissed, and Eddie rutted against the outside of Buck's leg while his hand jerked Buck off. It was slow, maybe too leisurely, and rough without lube but after a month of pain and fear and devastation and anxiety, the prickle of pleasurable sparks building steadily covered his body in a thin sheen of sweat. He could feel Buck's hips tilting into his hand, the heat between them gradually turning into an inferno.

"Ed…" Buck whined, clearly on the verge of unravelling.

"Deja ir, mi amor," he murmured, tightening his grip on the upstroke and watching Buck through lidded eyes. There was a vein bulging in his neck, ticking with his rapid pulse, as Buck's ruby lips sealed against a series of muted grunts. "Me encanta verte así."

It was fascinating watching Buck come like this, the way his whole body trembled as he succumbed to the pleasure that ripped through him. Sticky heat covered his hand and it felt dirty, almost forbidden, as Buck shuddered and gasped and kissed him with traces of desperation in his teeth and tongue. He shouldn't have been surprised when Buck's hand returned to the Mark against his shoulder, channelling need and desire and want and lust through that one point as Eddie continued to rub against Buck's leg, his hand still inside Buck's underwear. For a splash of a second, he imagined this was what it must be like for teenagers fooling around, learning another's body, gaining relief from the friction of someone else. In his strict family household, he'd never had a chance.

And then the thought was wiped from his mind because Buck's nails dug into his shoulder, scratching at the Mark, and even though he'd been seeking the friction of Buck's leg, he came without really being touched. He groaned against Buck's lips, something shaky escaping his lungs as his body thumped with his pulse and the aftershocks of the orgasm.

"That…was hot," Buck muttered, lips spread in a grin as Eddie withdrew his hand and tried to wipe it clean against some aspect of their clothes that were soon to go into the laundry.

He kissed both corners of Buck's mouth, bumping their noses together. "We need to get showered before Chris comes running in here to pounce on both of us."

Buck wrinkled his nose but sighed, letting Eddie roll to the edge of his bed and get up. His body still felt unsteady as he got to his feet, and his underwear was uncomfortable as he searched for fresh clothes with his clean hand which was tediously slow when it was his non-dominant set of fingers rifling through a drawer.

He heard Buck laugh behind him, the sound of crutches clicking against the floor. "Next time, you should just blow me, Diaz. Way less mess."

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't have _every_ longfic of Eddie and Buck have them unable to communicate and heal from trauma.
> 
> What I will say is that Buck was exhibiting signs of Acute Stress Disorder and Eddie didn't want it to turn into PTSD. PTSD is far more complex to tackle and work through but ASD can be supported and managed far more effectively if the support is there in the aftermath.


	18. Chapter 18

**Word Count:** 2,831  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

Eddie had imagined many possible scenarios for celebrating the removal of Buck's cast. They all tended to involve leaving Chris with Abuela, popping some champagne, exchanging kisses, and maybe leading to a whole lot more that didn't involve a lot of sleeping.

He hadn't considered that Buck might get his cast off while Eddie had a shift and then be so excited by the prospect of moving with more freedom of just a knee brace that he'd plan his own event which involved going to Maddie's for a Family Game Night. Which also included Chim. And that Chim had invited his best friend, Hen, and her wife, Karen over too.

Eddie almost considered picking up his phone and dialling Walker or Nicholls to see if they wanted to join just so he didn't feel so outnumbered.

Chris ended up at Athena and Bobby's for a sleepover with Harry, May, and Karen and Hen's son, Denny. Chris had been _thrilled_ by the possibility of staying at Athena's and spending time with the boys, who were a little older than him and therefore that made them _cool_. Eddie was slightly less thrilled that his quiet night in had turned into a raucous night out, but he couldn't really find it in him to begrudge the evening when Buck was smiling more and laughing freer than he had in a month as they started on Charades, and then moved to Taboo, and then Trivial Pursuit. Eddie was impressed at the array of games Maddie had stacked by the coffee table and wondered if this was something he was going to have to get used to participating in more often.

"I don't have the money for that," Karen complained as she counted out her remaining money in Monopoly and chewed her bottom lip while staring at the required rent.

"I'll cover you," Hen said, passing some coloured paper money to Karen.

"You can't do that! That's cheating!" Chim protested.

"It's a spouse helping a spouse. We have a marriage based on sharing assets," Hen said smugly, eyebrows arched in a challenge that Chim seemed willing to take.

"This isn't _couples_ Monopoly!"

"Says who?" Karen said, passing her collected notes to Maddie who had been playing banker.

Which was how an individualistic game of Monopoly devolved into a couples game, with Buck and Eddie, Chim and Maddie, and Hen and Karen supporting each other in the buying and selling of properties and houses and hotels. There was a lot of laughter, and a few calls about cheating, and he couldn't resist rubbing a hand against Buck's knee in an effort to be reassuring and supportive of whatever sibling spat was going on.

Monopoly was traded for Cards Against Humanity and then Eddie began to realise just how depraved the minds were of Buck, his sister, and those in the 118. It wasn't a game he'd played before – Game Nights weren't exactly something he'd ever done with his team – and he struggled to grasp that the most absurd white cards, which often didn't make sense when paired with the black cards, were the most popular and drew the most laughs. It seemed contradictory and he too-often chose cards that matched the situation because, he insisted, the answers needed to make _sense_. Buck tried explaining to him, several times, how the ridiculous cards were funniest and, with a group of weirdos, he should play those.

"Buckley. You're cleaning the board. Who are you calling a weirdo?" Chim said as he pondered which white card he wanted to submit in response to Maddie's black card.

"I clearly understand you're all nuts," Buck shrugged, picking up a fresh white card from the pile to replace the one he'd just given to Maddie and snorting when he read it.

Eddie couldn't help but look at him, wondering what dastardly combination he'd make next.

In the end, Buck _did_ end up winning but it was a narrow victory over Hen. Eddie expected her delighted, cackling laugh to be seared into his memory for _months_ given the way she reacted to so many of the cards that were played.

The hours grew late and it was approaching eleven when Karen said something about work the next day, so she and Hen departed and, not long after, so did Eddie and Buck.

"That was fun," Buck said, his eyes shining as he used a single crutch to support his weight on the hobble to the car.

"You only say that because you won," Eddie teased and Buck grinned.

"Is that jealousy, I hear?"

"Jealousy?" Eddie tugged Buck towards him, pressing a kiss to his lips that extinguished the look of amusement and replaced it with something darker with desire. "What's there to be jealous of about a card game?"

He left Buck standing there, pouting, as he climbed into his truck and tried to pretend as though he hadn't just tried to kiss Buck senseless in ways that left Eddie's pulse pounding through his veins. After a long moment, Buck seemed to restart and he joined Eddie in the car, fingers tapping against his knees.

"So. We have the house to ourselves, right? You're picking Chris up tomorrow?"

" _Now_ you're starting to understand why I wanted to leave an hour or two ago," Eddie said, attempting to cover his smirk at the audible way Buck's breathing hitched by putting the truck in reverse to escape Maddie and Chim's driveway. "After all, didn't you want to check whether your Mark was just as sensitive as before?"

He could feel how antsy Buck was beside him the entire trip home. He squirmed in his seat, fingers clearly balled in his lap whenever Eddie glanced towards them at traffic lights, and it was an effort to keep driving when he was sorely tempted to pull over and start groping under Buck's shirt. He wondered how much of his desire was radiated into Buck, because he certainly felt faint tingles of it through the Mark.

He helped Buck out of the car and into the house, ever the gentleman when someone could be walking down the street and spot them, but he wasted less time once the door was shut and locked to press Buck into the wall and start kissing him. Buck groaned against him, fingers already untucking Eddie's shirt from his pants and starting on some of the buttons, as Eddie cradled his jaw and licked into his mouth. It was like their first time all over again, the frenetic energy returning. Fingers fumbled at buttons and zippers, and Eddie almost lifted Buck into his arms to carry him to his bedroom if Buck hadn't swatted his hands away and insisted he could walk. Or, well, hobble a little easier.

Once Buck was sprawled against the mattress, his knee brace removed and his pale skin pinked already with an excited flush, Eddie could only take a moment to smile reverently at the image in front of him where those dark briefs hid nothing of his erection before he clambered onto the bed. Buck's hands lifted to his chest, skimming over his sides and then up his back to hold him close. He stroked his knuckles against Buck's cheek, feeling happy to have him for such a long stretch of uninterrupted hours. Yet there was still a clear glimmer of uncertainty in Buck's eyes.

"Hey." He pressed a softer kiss to Buck's lips, his concern slowing his desperation as he bracketed his arms around Buck's head. "You want to find out?"

Buck's eyes darted towards the ceiling, his unsteady heart rate clear in the twitch of his pulse in his neck. "No…" But his tone indicated his indecision and a moment later he shrugged. "I can't avoid it forever."

"We don't have to-"

"Eddie, I'm afraid," Buck said steadily, more steadily than Eddie felt as he watched the man beneath him spin through an array of emotions before seeming to resolve himself to the situation, "but I- I can't let fear rule me. Not about this. I know your Mark is the same and I- I know I still feel the same. Whatever it feels like, whatever it looks like, I- I know that's the truth."

Eddie brushed a kiss to Buck's lips, tracing the seam of his lips with the point of his tongue. Buck trembled beneath him, mouth parting around a gasp that Eddie used to his advantage to slide his tongue over Buck's. The longer the kiss lasted, the more Buck seemed to sink into bed. When Eddie was satisfied he had stolen away as much of Buck's anxiety as he could, he pulled away and gazed into the depths of Buck's blue eyes.

"Okay?"

Buck visibly swallowed and then gave a small nod. With the house to themselves, Eddie was in no rush to add to Buck's potential hysteria by discovering the Mark might have somehow changed dramatically. He started with another kiss to Buck's mouth that was far more chaste, then kissed each cheek, the tip of his nose, his chin. He started a line down the side of Buck's neck and then drifted across his collarbone with gentle kisses. By the time he started drawing his tongue across the half-curl of a cloud at his shoulder and the overlapping circle/square/triangle on his pec, Buck was practically squirming beneath him.

" _Eddie_ …" Buck grumbled with an adorable scrunch of his nose, one of his hands moving higher to grip the back of Eddie's neck and tug warningly at some of the strands of his hair.

"What? Something wrong?" he teased, winking in response to the glowering expression that Buck adopted.

"I'd forgotten how much you take your time when you can," Buck muttered and Eddie could only grin and continue his journey of rediscovering Buck's body with his mouth and the occasional errant touch. He bypassed Buck's tight navy-blue briefs, where he was clearly straining against the confines of the fabric, and kissed a path down his leg until he got to Buck's knee.

"You ready?" Eddie said and even though Buck looked anything _but_ ready he still nodded and scrunched his eyes shut. Eddie wasn't sure he blamed him when all he'd done was try to ensure he felt comfortable in surely some of the most uncomfortable of circumstances.

"Do your worst," Buck mumbled as Eddie shifted lower still. He tapped Buck's hip and he rolled over to expose the back of his knee.

It felt wrong to feel such a sense of relief when he knew Buck had been so afraid but it flowed through him anyway. There were a pair of circular reddish-pink scars across the fleshy part at the back of his knee where the bullet had passed through his ligament and narrowly avoided shattering into the bones of his leg. The scars were clearly still healing, but Buck would rarely, if ever, see them because of the awkward positioning. The two circles almost made for an amusing contrast with the array of small stripes across his arms and torso, but Eddie would never voice that when he knew Buck had his insecurities about all the Marks.

Most reassuringly, the only thing he really cared about right that second, was the inch of half-half colour and shade, a neat stripe contrasting with pale skin. It remained untouched between the two circles, though whether that was good luck or the surgeon's realisation Eddie would never know.

"Beautiful," he murmured, brushing his thumb over the Mark. Buck's muscles stiffened, a low moan into the pillow beneath him at the touch, and Eddie rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and pressed a little firmer.

"Eddie… Please…"

"It's fine, Ev." He dragged his thumb around the two circles of scars, feeling Buck tremble beneath him, before moving over the Mark again. "You were shot _near_ it but not shot _through_ it. It's… It's okay."

"You… Y-You're sure?" Buck's voice wavered and Eddie wished there were so many more things he could do or say that would provide the reassurance he knew Buck craved.

"Promise." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the Mark, drawing a louder moan from Buck which led to a broader smile stretching over his face. He settled on the side of Buck, allowing him the space to roll back over and meet his eyes. "You're okay, Buck. _We're_ okay."

There was a sparkle of tears in those blue eyes that hadn't been there before. He lifted his hand, trailed fingertips over the curve of Buck's cheekbone, around the birthmark above his eyebrow. He wanted to soak away the fear thrumming through Buck's entire system like a sponge and then twist it into a drain so it didn't exist anymore.

"I was so afraid it would be...destroyed somehow," Buck whispered, a tear spilling down his cheek.

"I know, but it's okay."

Buck shook his head slightly into Eddie's palm. "I know you… I know that you wanted to be together tonight, but I...was afraid."

Eddie's eyes narrowed, brain ticking over Buck's words and the facial expression that suggested he' was nervous about the confession. "You… Are you saying you _set up_ Family Game Night?"

"Not...exactly?"

But Eddie was starting to suspect that was _exactly_ what had happened, and he couldn't be mad about it. Not when he knew that Buck had been upset and stressed for a month. Not when he knew that if he'd discovered the Mark _had_ been damaged, he wasn't sure how they would have spent the rest of the night. Eddie had been stupid to have elaborate plans for a _good_ outcome which meant he hadn't considered any of the potential _bad_ outcomes.

In the span of a heartbeat and a breath, his enthusiasm to spend an evening alone with Buck deflated. Maybe he'd take advantage of a morning without curious eyes and excitement for breakfast instead.

"C'mere," he said, opening his arms. Buck bit his lip, looking uncertain, until Eddie twitched an eyebrow at him. Buck relented, shifting in the small gap to cuddle into Eddie's chest, allowing Eddie to settle his palms across the wings of his shoulder blades and lower back. "We're okay, Buck," he said, like a promise, as he nosed at Buck's cheek and pressed a kiss against the skin.

Buck nodded, and finally, _finally_ some of that tension that Eddie had been able to feel for a month within the muscles of Buck's back started to unspool, a damp sniffle that made him tighten his grip and push another kiss to his forehead.

His night might not have gone as expected but he thought that was probably for the best. Nothing was more important than ensuring Buck felt soothed and accepting that their relationship was just as alive and strong as ever and Eddie wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

"We need officers at the back alley exits, here and here," Eddie explained, pointing at the maps of the surrounding areas of their targeted location. The sprawling compound was a series of interconnected houses and apartments with an untold number of civilians nestled amid a hive of cartel members and suspected drug labs. Information gleaned from interviews and deals with the DA after the successful capture of Martinez a few weeks ago had been thoroughly cross-referenced to identify a new series of targets across the city. It was hard to believe they were still chasing down all the leads associated with this guy more than a month since it had started. Eddie was about ready to shut the book on him because every time they talked about Martinez, he thought about being interrupted by the call to the bar.

"We need teams to converge here," Walker continued, drawing a series of arrows leading towards a building slightly off-centre and forcing Eddie's attention back to the present. Drone flyovers indicated it was the central hub of activity at all hours of the day and night, a distribution centre for the neighbourhood and surrounding districts. "Patrol will cover the right and left doors and windows. Bravo will breach from the rear to push towards us at the front to take down the runners."

Marshall nodded, gesturing to his team to memorise their positioning in the grand scheme of the maps. Athena pursed her lips, tapping at a stairwell that was nearly impossible to cover. Eddie, Walker and Marshall had already discussed it, deciding it was simply too exposed and gave away their approach. They already knew it could lead to an unknown number scurrying across to the apartment block to the west. From there, it would be easy to leap onto lower roofs and escape to street level.

"We'll have eyes in the sky and surrounding patrols to intercept," Eddie explained, because it wasn't a perfect solution but it was the best they had under the circumstances. "Cameras in the area can also help capture images to track down any we might miss."

Athena cast a withering look at him. "Don't miss."

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember someone reading over this (beta? artist? I have forgotten) and they thought that Buck was going to lose his leg. He's so concerned about his Marks that it'd be some cruel irony that he'd need his leg amputated. Phew. Aren't you glad I'm not _that_ cruel to poor Buck!


	19. Chapter 19

**Word Count:** 5,857  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

**Warnings:** This chapter contains explicit sexual content.

* * *

Various muscles ached and he had a nasty bruise developing on his hip and shoulder, but knowing Chris and Buck were inside the house and safe and probably watching a movie or completing Chris' homework or baking some obnoxious creation managed to keep a smile on his face despite the pain. He moved slowly, keeping the injured arm tucked close to his belly to lessen the pain in his shoulder, and he tried to find ways to minimise how much wincing he was doing with every step. Icing at HQ after the takedown turned ugly had barely made a dent in the discolouration blossoming across his skin and Athena had demanded he call in sick for his next shift if his movements were still restricted. He knew how dangerous it would be to the team if he forced himself into a danger-zone and he wasn't physically fit enough for it.

Limping slightly through the house, he followed the sound of Chris' laughter to the door leading outside. A pair of tents had been erected in the yard with a large metal grate with a griddle on top between them. To one side of the yard, he could see a mound of dirt had been formed from a hole.

"Dad!"

His eyes flicked back to Chris moving towards him, his smile so bright and warm it could chase even the darkest of clouds from Eddie's day. He tried not to yelp or bite his lip too hard when Chris crashed into his stomach, wrapping him into a hug as his small head absolutely collided too painfully with his hip.

"Hey, bud," he said, looping fingers through Chris' hair. "How was your day?"

"Good!" Chris chirped, pulling away so he could wave towards the yard. "We've prepared everything for camping and- and burying the capsule. Buck said we'd had to wait so long that maybe we'd have to change everything inside the capsule. D'you think we need to do that, Dad?"

Eddie's attention drifted from Chris to Buck, who had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and seemed to be watching Eddie closely. Maybe he'd caught the way Eddie had tried to cover the pain he was in. Maybe he could sense it via the Mark. Maybe he'd already felt it when Eddie was in the middle of his shift because it was his Marked shoulder which has been hurt.

"The stuff in the capsule is meant to make us laugh in ten years, right?" Eddie said, combing his fingers through Chris' hair. "What does it matter if it's already more than a month old? I thought that was the whole point."

"See, Buck? I _told_ you we should just leave it," Chris said with no small amount of certainty as he turned to look at Buck with a pout making his bottom lip jut. Eddie laughed and Buck smiled.

"I think what I'd _said_ is that we should check with your Dad if there was anything he might want to _add_ ," Buck said in such a tone that indicated he'd probably said it several times throughout the day.

Eddie met Buck's eyes steadily, hand cupping the back of Chris' neck and rubbing a slow circle into the soft skin around the top of his spine. "I think everything that mattered enough to put in the capsule a month ago still matters to me now," he said slowly, watching as Buck realised the implications behind the words that went straight over his son's head.

"Can we toast s'mores? And eat out here? Buck said we could sleep outside; we just need more blankets to put on the ground!" Chris said like he had no idea that Eddie and Buck were having some sort of silent conversation over his head.

He continued rubbing his son's neck and nodded at whatever suggestions Chris rattled off, unwilling to spoil the infectious enthusiasm. It seemed like he and Buck had planned everything and Eddie was content to sit back and let them run with their ideas so he could simply enjoy the evening.

"I'm going to shower and freshen up," he announced once it seemed he had satisfied all of Chris' immediate questions.

Chris nodded, deciding to fetch the blanket off his bed, and Buck crossed the yard carefully because he was still working out the right way to distribute weight on his leg with the single crutch for support.

"How was work?" Buck said, and something in the narrow, assessing look he gave Eddie made it clear he hadn't covered himself as well as he'd hoped.

"Long. Glad to be home." He lifted the uninjured shoulder which only made Buck's eyebrow rise.

Buck's hand lifted towards his arm as he said, "Can I see?"

"See what?"

Buck rolled his eyes. "Stop acting like you aren't in pain, Eddie."

Eddie could hear the click of Chris' crutches in the distance and shook his head. He couldn't peel his shirt up or away and risk Chris seeing anything. Eddie kept his son as ignorant as possible of the dangers of what he did and he wasn't about to start scaring him now. "Not here."

Buck's lips turned down, hands lowering back to his side. "It's that bad?"

"It's…" Eddie realised he needed to choose his words in such a way that Buck wouldn't suddenly freak out on him. "Nothing's broken. I saw Hen during the shift. She checked me out. Did you know you could develop rainbows under your skin?"

Buck wrinkled his nose. "Yes, unfortunately. Now, stop deflecting."

"I'm okay, I-"

"Dad? Can you bring the blanket off your bed when you finish with your shower?"

Buck schooled his face to hide his obvious concern while Eddie shifted easily into parent mode, avoiding the inevitable conversation a little longer as his son reappeared at the back door.

"Of course, mijo. I'll bring our pillows and yours too. We probably have an air mattress somewhere to make the ground more comfortable…"

He used that as an excuse to get away from Chris and Buck but it wasn't long before he was standing inside his bathroom, examining the dark blossom of colour across his shoulder and hip with dismay. There was a knock at the door and he sighed, flicking the lock because he knew he couldn't keep Buck away from him.

"Shit, Eddie," Buck muttered as he slid inside and then pressed the door shut and locked it again. He met Eddie's eyes in the mirror before inching closer. "I love and trust Hen, but are you sure you shouldn't get this looked at by an actual doctor in an actual hospital?"

"I can move my fingers and lift my shoulder," Eddie said, grimacing when the delicate pads of Buck's fingers grazed the bruising against his shoulder. "It hurts but I've had worse. It'll be okay."

"Still." Buck kissed the back of Eddie's neck, pressing his chest into Eddie's back. His fingertips trailed along the swirl of bruises down his arm and towards the dark stain at his hip. "I don't like you being hurt."

"Now you know how I felt," he murmured, watching Buck over his shoulder. Some of the tension in his muscles gradually unwound as the soft touches continued, as Buck's lips found other spots to kiss. There wasn't even anything particularly sexual about the touches but it _was_ intimate and soothing in ways that Eddie hadn't experienced in a long, _long_ time.

Buck's mouth ghosted over the Mark on his bruised shoulder and it reminded Eddie of how easily he was a puppet and the strings could be cut. He whimpered, body sagging into Buck's hold when the point of a tongue dragged around the Mark followed by the flat of it pressing into the Mark. It felt like being electrocuted, spasms of pleasure mingling with pain, mixing with a heat that seemed to take some of the hurt away from his body.

" _Buck_ …"

Buck licked a few more times and Eddie could feel his knees threatening to give out as he clutched at the sink in front of him, unable to look away from Buck's dark stare over a shoulder that no longer ached and yet desperately forgetting that he still needed to-

"You needed to shower?" Buck finished the thought for him, his smile obvious against Eddie's skin when he pressed his lips to the knob of Eddie's spin for a kiss. Equally obvious was the bulge in Eddie's jeans that strained past the counter and was visible in the reflection of the mirror.

"You're not- You can't just-"

"Eddie, your son is home and not that far away. _We_ can't," Buck pointed out, like Eddie wasn't about to take Buck's hand and shove it down his pants until he came. Using the Mark like that… They needed to set up a rule.

"But-"

"Maybe when he's asleep though," Buck mumbled, withdrawing his hand from Eddie's hip, his mouth from Eddie's back, his presence from the bathroom. He was gone too quickly for Eddie's addled mind to chase him and pin him to a wall or the door.

He hissed at the scratchy removal of fabric against his erection, and decided if Buck was going to play dirty like that then Eddie knew his own tricks to make Buck desperate. So as he slumped against the tiled wall of his shower because his knees were still wobbly, water streaming over his skin and washing away the sweat and grime of the shift, he thought of Buck and only Buck as he lazily jerked himself off. He sent whatever feelings, thoughts and physical touches he could through the Mark as a punishment for Buck to whip him into such a frenzy in the first place and almost bit through his bottom lip when he came into his hand.

Buck's furious glare when Eddie finally emerged from the bathroom, his limbs looser after a particularly overwhelming orgasm, suggested he'd been successful in channelling everything and making Buck _very_ aware of what he'd missed out on in the shower.

He entered the kitchen to start preparing dinner with one arm, and Buck soon scooted in beside him to take over some of the cutting of vegetables and gathering of equipment that was creating sharp pains throughout his shoulder.

"That wasn't fair," Buck muttered as he shifted around Eddie to collect a pan from a cupboard.

"I have no idea what you mean," he replied as he drifted from the kitchen to where Chris was playing with some of his Legos against the coffee table. He slowly lowered himself to the couch, stroking gentle fingers through Chris' hair as his son looked at him with a beaming smile. "How was school, bud?"

"It was okay," Chris said, holding out an attempted Lego creation that didn't really look like anything to Eddie. He eased his fingers away from Chris' curls so he could hold it, keeping the sore arm against his belly. "We planted trees in Science today. And we're making pots in Art that are decorated with sea creatures."

Eddie fiddled with some of the Lego pieces, shifting some of the mismatched colours. "Planting trees and sea creatures sounds like a pretty great day. What are the creatures you're decorating your pot with?"

He listened to Chris talk about the drawings he'd made to practise of the creatures, and then he'd graduated to trying to use different sorts of paints to create the shapes. He returned the Lego creation to Chris, watching him add new bricks while listening to Buck move around the kitchen in the background. In the yard, he could smell the faint whiffs of wood smoke coiling through the house and it transported him to bonfires in El Paso, of family clustered around singing and laughing and shouting over one another. He couldn't remember doing anything like that since he moved to Los Angeles. But now, watching Chris, it occurred to him that he felt calm, and content, maybe even _happy_.

It felt wrong to feel happy after the shift he'd had, and it was almost terrifying to realise that so much had changed since he'd first spoken to Buck after class. The dynamic with his son had changed too, maybe through dragging Chris on some of the dates, and _absolutely_ leaving Chris behind for others, but his heart had become increasingly and intricately woven around everything to do with Buck. He'd gone from feeling lost, adrift, unhinged, and angry at Shannon's death, at raising Chris alone, at the injustice of being on duty when Shannon was swept away, to...this. This warm satisfaction, this comforting glow, this-

He startled when he felt hands brush through his hair, fingers trailing down his neck to knead lightly at the curve from neck to shoulder. He relaxed a little more, tipping his head back until he met Buck's crystal blue eyes above him.

"Hey."

He smiled, reaching his good arm up to twine his fingers through Buck's resting on his shoulder. "Hey. Do you need a hand?"

Buck grinned. "Are you saying that because you literally only have one?"

He chuckled and tugged Buck's hand towards his mouth, pressing soft kisses to the knuckles and palm. "I say that so that you don't have to prepare everything alone."

Buck's fingertips grazed his jaw, the grin slipping towards an amused smile. "I'm not alone and you had a big shift. I've got it, okay? You take it easy."

Eddie still felt unconvinced but Buck patted his cheek and then wandered away again and Eddie couldn't help but feel dazed, wondering again when he'd gotten so lucky, wondering again how Fate had decided to bring Buck into his life before Marking them both.

The heady aroma of burning wood mingled with the sweet smell of meat and when Chris ran out of stories from school and grew bored with the Legos, he abandoned the bricks and left to get a book from his room. Eddie eased off the couch, attempting to hide the mild limp because of the ache in his hip to join Buck outside.

The metal grate was alight now, red and orange and yellow flames licking and flickering at the glowing griddle. An array of sausages and steaks hissed and bubbled and popped. Buck sat on one of the lawn chairs, poking at the meats with the longest pair of tongs Eddie thought he owned, but he looked up as Eddie sauntered closer.

"D'you want to talk about what happened?"

Eddie hovered close enough to the flames to feel the heat kiss his skin, faintly mesmerised by the swirl of colour as tongues of fire flickered in errant directions that had been seared across his eyes most of the day.

"It's still an active case," he said, biting his bottom lip because even though he trusted Buck with his heart and soul and his kid, he couldn't talk much about active cases. He couldn't break protocol. "Bravo tried to breach and the doors blew off the hinges. Our targets had left the gas running, probably hoping for more damage and more fatalities."

The tongs clattered to the ground, clanging against the griddle and grate. "People _died_?" Buck said, his eyes huge blue saucers.

Eddie looked away, attempting to swallow the memories and carnage of the day that reminded him too much of warzone far away. Buck obviously realised the question was a stupid one and moved to his feet, stepping around the grate to draw Eddie into a gentle, and much needed, hug. He nuzzled into the crook of Buck's neck and shoulder, inhaling the fading scent of cologne against his skin, loose fingers grasping at Buck's shirt to hold him close.

"Shit, Eds. I'm so sorry," Buck whispered, kissing across his hair as Eddie breathed in, and out, and clung to Buck until he started to feel steady again amid the swirls of emotions. "If I'd known, I never would have-"

"I know." He brushed a soft kiss against Buck's neck, the smallest of smiles on his lips because he wasn't going to have any regrets about _that_. "It helped a bit though. I needed the distraction."

Buck kissed his temple and gradually loosened his grip, giving Eddie enough time to let go without feeling like he was drowning again in all the memories.

Chris came out to join them and remind Eddie that he hadn't retrieved the pillows, blankets or air mattress that he'd promised so he returned to gather those supplies while Buck entertained Chris with stories as he cooked. Eddie looked again at the little tents, at the mound of dirt with the plastic capsule beside it, and wondered again how he'd ever gotten so lucky to integrate Buck into his life like this.

After eating one of the best meals he'd had in years because of how the smoky meats took him back to childhood bonfires, he sat on the patch of grass beside the hole and watched Buck and Chris bury the capsule.

"D'you think we'll still be living here when we dig it up?" Chris asked as he sprinkled handfuls of soil over the top of the capsule.

"Maybe, mijo." He met Buck's eyes and couldn't help the smile that twitched the edge of his lips because he was too easily thinking about digging it up with Buck still by his side. "Do you think you'll miss anything you've buried?"

Chris shrugged. "Yeah, but that's the point, right? We often bury stuff we're gonna miss. Like Mom."

The smile slipped from his lips as abruptly as it had arrived, a breath sticking in his lungs at the ease with which Chris brought up Shannon. "You- That's- Buddy, I didn't mean this to...to be like _that_."

"I know." Chris patted his hand, leaving globs of dirt over Eddie's fingers which did little to truly soothe away the ache behind his heart. "When do you think we'll dig it up?"

Buck's hand trailed up his back, thumb smoothing against the Mark on his sore shoulder. It helped settle some of the sudden wave of pain that Chris' words had brought him, helped drag him away from dissolving into tears in front of his son when Chris had probably just been trying to be sweet.

"The hardest part is remembering it's here," Buck joked and Chris giggled, adding more dirt to the hole, and providing an opportunity for Eddie to gather himself again. "Or if you start wondering where something is and thinking you've lost it, when it's here."

Chris nodded and then glanced between them. "But we found you, Buck. That's more important."

"I'm raising an emotional genius," Eddie muttered and Buck snorted, fingers flexing against his shoulder and curving around the back of his neck. It helped steady him further and he tilted into it to acknowledge his gratitude.

Once Chris had patted the dirt into place, Eddie told him to wash his hands and Buck went to retrieve the ingredients to make s'mores. Eddie shifted the chairs closer to the fire, adding another log and sending up another flurry of sparks from the grate.

"Dad?"

He carefully lifted Chris into his lap when he saw the way Chris' arms were outstretched, nudging a kiss to the curls to cover the way his shoulder and hip had lurched with pain at Chris' weight pressing into his chest.

"I'm… I'm sorry if I made you sad when I mentioned Mom," Chris said as Eddie positioned him in such a way that his head could lean against Eddie's uninjured shoulder.

"What?" He frowned and shook his head, squeezing Chris gently and tipping his head up with a gentle finger beneath his chin. "Bud, you-"

"I know you're still sad she died, Dad," Chris said with a roll of his eyes and Eddie fumbled over his words again.

He realised he probably didn't give Chris enough credit for recognising what was going on, and how difficult it was to lose someone you still loved, in some way. He knew Chris had a simple sort of understanding about the Marks but his kid also had to know that they were important. Eddie wished he could conceal the turmoil that swept him away sometimes but he had often wondered if hiding how much he'd loved and cared and missed Shannon sent the wrong message too. He didn't want Chris to think Shannon didn't matter to him. He didn't want Chris to ever forget how much Shannon had loved her son, even though she'd struggled to express it in the years before her death.

"Yeah, I- I still miss her," he agreed. With slightly trembling fingers, he loosened the strap of his watch and exposed the scar. His lungs burned as Chris' fingers brushed against it, a small burst of warmth contrasting with the chill the scar usually left him feeling. It reminded him of when they used to sit like this and Chris would examine the black Mark. Even black, it had been some sort of source of comfort for Chris. But after it had scarred, Eddie hadn't wanted to look at it much.

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head, watching Chris examine it like he'd only done a few times since the tsunami. Maybe it was his fault. He didn't reveal it very often. "No. Not- I can't feel anything through it anymore. Not like with Buck."

Chris' wide eyes turned towards him. "You can feel Buck?"

"Sometimes." He felt a shy smile tug at his lips because he knew Buck was done in the kitchen, like the string between them was lessening as the other man started his return to outside. "It's hard to explain but I- I hope when you find someone you truly care about, and who truly cares about you, that you know there's nothing more special than Fate Marking you with love."

Chris gazed at him and then his attention snapped away when Buck announced he had all the s'mores ingredients. Chris cheered, wiggling off Eddie's lap to grab a thin stick and shove a marshmallow on the end of it. Eddie looked at Buck and felt the rush of affection sweep through his chest. He wasn't even sure if it was because he felt so _much_ for Buck or because Buck was playing with their connection through the Marks. He wasn't even sure he cared.

When Chris was sufficiently stuffed with s'mores and had dressed in his pyjamas and snuggled inside his sleeping bag in the tent, Eddie listened to Buck tell Chris a bedtime story until there were soft snuffly snores and Buck crept from the fabric. The fire had dimmed but it was still warm, still casting heat and light over Eddie's face as Buck approached him with an outstretched hand.

His eyebrow rose as he looked at Buck.

"I think I promised you something after your son was asleep?" Buck whispered and Eddie… His blood turned molten as he clasped Buck's hand and let himself be led inside his house.

His lips found Buck's when they had barely crossed the threshold of the backdoor, tasting the sweetness of the marshmallows and bitterness of the dark chocolate as Buck stumbled in his guidance to the bedroom. He hissed when Buck's hand closed too tightly around his hip to press him into his bedroom door, nipping at the hinge of his jaw and down his neck. Eddie tugged Buck's shirt over his head, still marvelling at all the pale pink Marks that littered Buck's torso that he'd given up counting a long time ago. None of them mattered as much as the one on Buck's knee.

" _Eddie_ ," Buck whimpered, grinding his hips against Eddie's in a desperate search for friction and revealing how hard he was already against Eddie's bruised skin.

"Needy, much?" he teased, tilting his head to Buck's roving mouth as he dragged his blunt nails down Buck's chest.

Buck shuddered and pulled at Eddie's shirt gently, the two of them working the fabric over Eddie's head with only a few grunts of pain. Eddie made sure the lock to his room was latched before pushing Buck away. Buck shuffled back, his hand already unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as he fell onto the bed behind him. Eddie had to admire him, had to admire the long lines of his body and the swell of muscles and the scattered pink Marks and dark tattoos that continued to drive him wild.

He crawled over Buck and caught his lips in another semi-frenzied kiss, pulling Buck's hand away from his jeans and lifting the arm above his head in an attempt to slow it down. "What do you want?" he murmured, kissing a trail from the edge of Buck's mouth to his jaw, pressing down to trap Buck's hips beneath him. "You're not usually like this. What do you want, querido?"

Buck tried to rock his hips upwards and whined when he realised that Eddie had him pinned. Even with a sore shoulder and hip, Eddie was getting better at fixing the flaws in his movements and holding Buck still without getting unexpectedly flipped. There was still a small amount of weakness in Buck's leg that restricted his ability, and he also suspected that his injuries meant Buck would've been more careful anyway.

"Use your words," Eddie encouraged, noting the way Buck's cheeks were flushing.

"Fuck, I- I thought I wanted to ride you- Feel you deep inside me," Buck groaned, and even Eddie had to try to collect his thoughts at _that_ image. "But- But you're hurt and- God- Keep restraining me like this, Eds-"

Eddie tightened his grip and watched as Buck's eyelids fluttered, his pretty pink lips parting around a gasp when Eddie rolled his groin against Buck's. Even through layers of fabric, the sensitivity was clear. "I could take you like this," he said, keeping his voice low as he stared at Buck, watching the lump in his throat bob and the way his blue eyes grew dark. "You want that? You want me to take your cock and force you to be still beneath me?"

Buck nodded jerkily and Eddie kissed him again, using the lowering of his body to angle his increasingly hard dick to rub against where Buck's was escaping his parted jeans. There was a moan against his mouth, a twitch of Buck's hips that Eddie quickly tried to suppress.

"You get one hand free so you can get the rest of our clothes off and prep me. Then it's mine again," he said, noting how Buck's eyes were almost black, just the faintest strip of blue remaining like desire had eclipsed his sanity. Buck nodded again, like he didn't trust his voice to speak and, honestly, Eddie wasn't even sure how he managed to keep his tone so steady.

There was an urgency in Buck's actions as his single hand worked their jeans and underwear off, the dark flush of his cock curving towards his belly making it difficult for Eddie to remember he needed to focus on Buck's fingers and not how much he wanted to lick and taste and-

His breathing hitched when Buck's first finger pressed inside him, his heart thumping in his chest as he kissed Buck again and again. He used it as a distraction from the ache in his joints, and the burn of Buck's fingers scissoring him wider, and the burning need that made his entire body feel like he was slowly erupting into flames. By the time Eddie was sliding a condom down Buck's neglected cock, he wondered if he'd even have any strength in his legs to keep Buck pinned to the mattress. His thighs were already burning.

"You're so fucking hot," Buck muttered, eyes slightly glazed as Eddie grasped his wrists in both hands and held them to the pillow beside his head. His shoulder ached and he had to adjust a few times until he found the right spot.

"And you're liking this a whole lot more than I expected," Eddie retorted, shifting his hips forward, feeling Buck's cock drag through his crack. Buck's eyes scrunched shut, his breathing stuttered, and Eddie squeezed Buck's wrists. "Hey. Eyes open. You better watch what you wanted."

Buck managed to get his eyes open again, though they remained hooded as Eddie let one wrist go so he could lift Buck's cock, positioning it against his hole. Once the tip was inside, he returned his hand to Buck's arm and used the leverage to sink against Buck.

"O-Oh _fuck_ ," Buck groaned, the veins in his neck stark with the strain as he tilted his head into the pillow. Eddie could feel the clenching in his belly as he took Buck's cock, various flares of pain all through his body giving way to pleasure, to need, to want. He could feel every inch of Buck within him, the stretch of his girth that he'd still feel while recovering from this tomorrow, and he was ready to abandon this plan of forcing Buck to stay still because he was _so_ ready to have Buck slam into him until he was shattering apart.

"So good," he muttered, almost to himself as he experimentally shifted his hips, trying to bend his knees and hook his ankles a little firmer around Buck's legs below him. He managed to move in slow figure-eights, taking his time as Buck seemed to struggle to know what to do when Eddie had him pinned, had him caught between giving and taking and forcing him into powerlessness and at the same time driving Eddie absolutely wild with clawing desperation for more.

"Let m-my hands go," Buck begged and Eddie considered saying no, considered what Buck had wanted before, but now he needed more – he suspected they both did – and released his grip to bury into the pillow beside Buck's head for stability. One of Buck's hands closed against his flank, carefully avoiding most of the bruising, while the other clutched at Eddie's hip and started guiding more movement, started forcing faster and rougher actions that made Eddie's spine curl.

"That's- I need- Buck-"

"I know," Buck echoed breathlessly.

Eddie's capacity to hold him down was failing rapidly as he lost himself in the sparks of heat that kept shorting his brain. Buck thrust his hips up, the slap of skin loud and lewd as Eddie slammed down. He forgot what it was to breathe when Buck's hand moved from his hip to his cock, gathering precum spilling from the tip and sliding it across his length like a filthy alternative to lube. It just made his actions more erratic and Buck's name fell from his lips like a chant.

And then he felt Buck's hand at his side shift to his shoulder, a carefully coordinated pressure against his Mark at the same time as a twist of Buck's hand and a particularly hard thrust up. Whatever Buck had wanted before in being pinned down escaped from Eddie in an instant as he practically slumped over Buck, at the mercy of his hands and his hips, lost to his senses except for the thunderous need coursing through him. Each of Buck's thrusts drew unbidden grunts past Eddie's lips, each of his hands drawing moans and pleas as he felt everything inside him draw tighter and tighter, the overwhelming need stretching him past the brink and-

And when he finally came, because of a firm press at the Mark and a well-angled jab of the cock within him and a tightening grip on the head of his cock, he was too far gone to be embarrassed at the sharp cry he gave, spilling against Buck's belly and hand as he collapsed into trembling limbs. There was a white noise in his ears and he surrendered to Buck's need for his body, too powerless to move, too weak to do anything but continue to be fucked through the sensitivity that wracked him, listening to Buck's breathing hitch and grow shorter and shorter. He thought about saying something but his words still felt disconnected from his mouth, only able to emit small, weak sobs as Buck continued to nail his prostate which was continuing to keep him hard and feeling like he could come again at any second.

And then Buck came too, muscles arched and taut beneath his skin, lungs incapable of breath as he spasmed and choked Eddie's name beneath him. He didn't even wait for Buck to catch his breath, didn't even wait for him to inhale, before kissing him and feeling Buck's hands move over him, a groan that could've been one or both of them as they continued moving together because even though Eddie thought they were both spent, this was something more, something deeper, something he didn't want to stop. It was something right down to the bottom of his heart, deep within his soul urging him on, craving more, and he willingly rolled when Buck manoeuvred them, let his legs be slung around Buck's hips as the kiss continued and Buck used the new angle to increase the snap and roll of his hips.

He was past the point of oversensitivity. His cock was hard again – had it ever softened? – between them and he could still feel Buck slamming against his prostate, drowning every sense he had in _too much_ but he also needed Buck to keep going, to shatter his world into dazzling technicolour.

"E-Evan-"

"I've got you," Buck gasped against his mouth, a hand between them jerking Eddie off so fast that it took him a moment to realise that it was _his_ hand between them. He wasn't even consciously aware of making decisions, wasn't even aware of his fingers and toes, as the whole world narrowed to the only thing that he needed.

The shouted expletives that he couldn't contain as everything exploded were partially muffled by Buck's mouth against him, and he was utterly powerless and boneless to Buck fucking him through it, his cock sending strings of come splattering against both of them. When Buck came again, he pressed as deep as he could and clung to Eddie, shaking almost violently with the strength of the orgasm. Eddie would've sworn he could feel Buck's cock pulsing inside him, but it was probably just the hard thud of his heartbeat against his ribcage playing tricks on him.

"I love you so much," Buck breathed against his sweat-soaked skin, sliding free so that Eddie could lower his wobbly legs and then settling his body against Eddie's like he wasn't covered in a sticky mess. "That was- Fuck, that was _intense_."

Eddie could only nod, his turn not to know how to use words. He draped tired arms around Buck's torso, pressed hands into the grooves of his back. If there'd been a time in the last five years where he'd felt more in love, more content, more overawed, he couldn't remember it. He wasn't even sure he'd ever felt like _this_ before and he knew with absolute clarity that sex had never felt like _that_.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny squeak of this fic to go next week...
> 
> I CANNOT BELIEVE IT'S ALMOST ALL OVER...................


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S (...not...) FINISHED.
> 
> (No, it is finished, I swear. Sort of. Kind of. Go forth. Read. Then you'll get to the bottom note and read that too. Ha.)

**Word Count:** 1,224  
 **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with _911_ , Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

Eddie didn't know what time he and Buck had been able to lift themselves off the bed to shower and dress in loose sweats and t-shirts. By the time they crept outside to sleep on the air mattress, the fire had died down and Chris was still fast asleep when Eddie peered into his tent. Still sore, and tired, and coming down from his high, he'd been more than satisfied to cuddle together, Buck's arms secure around Eddie's waist and his face nuzzled against Eddie's shoulder.

"Te amo," he whispered, hearing Buck's sleepy hum against him.

"Love you too."

There hadn't been enough hours of sleeping before he felt the air mattress shift, a fuzzy awareness that led him to opening his arms to a smaller body snuggling into his embrace before he drifted again.

He woke to it being too bright, the sound of cars and birds too loud, and was disoriented enough to flail his hands. The bed shifted too much beneath him and there was a sharp moment of lacking any sort of clarity, of reaching for the gun strapped to his hip because he couldn't remember who was meant to have been on last watch and-

"Dad?"

A hand brushed against the back of his shoulder and he recoiled, dazed eyes staring at a familiar blue over his shoulder that he couldn't place. His heart was racing in his chest, his breathing too short to be useful at reducing the dizziness that swam through his head.

"Eddie."

A calm voice, one he knew within the reaches of his soul called to him. He rubbed his eyes, fighting to shake away tendrils of sleep and fragments of memories that sometimes tangled together when he wasn't watching.

"Count backwards from ten, Eds. Focus on me and count backwards from ten."

So he did, and somewhere around _four_ everything returned into focus. He felt the shame bubble and burn in his stomach as everything began to make more sense again and he looked between Buck's steady expression and Chris' wide-eyed panic at the way he'd woken up.

"C'mere," Buck murmured, and even though Eddie wanted to fight and say he didn't deserve it, he folded into Buck's embrace and draped a loose arm around Chris' waist, fingers tracing patterns against his son's back as he gazed into those beautiful hazel eyes that he knew better than his own. "Just breathe, baby. We're here."

He kissed Chris' forehead and somewhere between watching his kid and being held by Buck, everything started to slow again, the fractured awareness began to heal. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tugging at some of Chris' curls while Buck kissed the Mark on the back of his shoulder. The kiss was probably more comforting than anything else he could've done, sending a gentle wave of heat across his skin. "I- I'm not sure I've camped since- since I got back."

Behind him, Buck made a soft noise of realisation but Chris' brow crinkled. "You used to go camping in Afghanistan?"

A small, sad smile tugged at his mouth as he traced fingertips over the different curves of Chris' face. "Not like this, buddy. Getting sandwiched between my two favourite people is a _much_ better way to wake up."

He wasn't entirely sure if Chris understood what he was saying but the way his face broke into a bright smile was better than the worry and confusion. Chris wiggled closer, a happy hum against Eddie's chest that helped chase away the remaining demons. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, kid," he said, squeezing Chris against him and pressing noisy kisses to his hair. When he started tickling Chris' ribs and he exploded into squirming giggles, Eddie felt like some of the weight in his shoulders was starting to lessen.

"How are we feeling about breakfast?" Buck asked while Chris was trying to catch his breath, the grin on his face mirrored by Eddie because it had been _so long_ since he'd felt like this. He might have woken up shaky but the sense of calm had smoothed over him again until he felt back in control.

"Breakfast?" Chris said hopefully, eyes flashing over Eddie's shoulder to where Buck was pressed against him and undoubtedly peering past to meet Chris' eyes.

"Let's go. You can be in charge of washing the fruit and your dad can cut it while I make the pancakes."

" _Pancakes_?!" Chris abruptly crawled free of Eddie's arms and out of the tent, making excited chittering noises as he sought his crutches and glasses from his tent.

"Now you've done it," Eddie teased, rolling into his back and looking at Buck. "That kid will eat his body weight in pancakes."

Buck smiled but he cradled Eddie's cheek anyway, flickers of concern evident in his eyes. "Seriously though, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." He tilted into Buck's hand and kissed his palm before returning his gaze to the sparkling blue. "I'm- I'm sorry you had to see that. I think the- the explosion and gunfire yesterday rattled some pieces loose and waking up outside was… I didn't realise I'd end up… _there_ again. "

Buck shook his head and smoothed his thumb over Eddie's cheekbone. "Don't be sorry. I understand fight or flight. I know why you encouraged me to start talking. Just...let me know if you aren't okay today? Please?"

"I will," he promised, tugging at Buck for a chaste kiss. "I love you too, by the way."

Buck bumped their noses together, the smile in his kiss obvious. "I-"

"Buck, are we getting pancakes?!"

They both snorted, fighting the various blankets and the wobble of the air mattress to climb out of the tent. Chris was standing by the back door, balancing on his crutches with an expression of exasperation that Eddie was fairly certain his son had learned from Abuela.

Once they'd all washed hands, Buck put them to work with Chris washing strawberries and blueberries and Eddie dicing them for a topping alongside bananas to mix in with the batter. Eddie watched, probably a little too closely, as Buck encouraged Chris to take different plastic bottles of syrups to the table one at a time and anything that was glass Buck carried over. Eddie laid the table and he realised they were able to just move around each other without thinking, without needing to ask. Everything felt so calm, and relaxed, and easy.

Buck's arms wound around him as he watched Chris at the table, munching on his first pancake, and smiled at the kiss to the back of his neck.

"I didn't get to say I love you too earlier, but I do," Buck whispered and Eddie brushed his hand against Buck's on his belly, squeezing gently before Buck let go to check the next pancake wasn't burning.

So what if he'd turned into a sickening sap for the domesticity? He hadn't felt this happy, this content, in so long that it almost felt unfamiliar to him.

He hadn't expected to gain all this from simply attending a drawing class at Carla's suggestion because of Athena's insistence that he hadn't dealt with his grief and anger. Yet, watching Buck move calmly and easily around his kitchen, Eddie was certainly and overwhelmingly glad that he had now.

There was absolutely nowhere else that he'd rather be.

* * *

_**~FIN~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet little thing to act as an epilogue, of sorts. While this certainly has a final line, that does not mean I may not revisit this world in the future. It's taken me years upon years to finally finish a story with the Marks element (two aborted attempts within Seblaine fic) so it's one I know well and would like to revisit, and there are many more storylines to still explore so...stay tuned, perhaps. There won't be anything soon - things are too hectic - but...someday. Maybe.
> 
> I want to take a chance to give a final shout-out to some amazing people: Nicole, my beta extraordinnaire; Jay, my artist magnificent; Zel and Jen, for all of the brainstorming of how to build the Marks and the world and refine it again and again; and then to several cheerleader/screamer reviewers that have appeared every week, Jess and Ro and many more I don't know by direct name but you know who you are, and I appreciate you more than you know. It's difficult to write if no one reads, and it's difficult to maintain positivity if no one is engaging. So thank you so much to this wonderful team of people that have entered my life in the last twelve months. 
> 
> I know this story has been a ride, and I know there were a lot of questions about the world at the start, and the Marks - I hope, now that it's complete, you can see the threads of a universe that all make sense :)


End file.
